The Devil Beside You
by thelittlestteacup
Summary: Lily Foster was a cheerleader, a college student and a babysitter for one Penny Blake, until the world went to Hell. Eventual Daryl/OC. Mostly AU, but also taking a lot from both the TV series and the comics. Rated T for violence and language, rating may change.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N**: Hey guys, just a few quick notes. This is my first attempt at fanfic, so constructive criticism is nice, but please be nice :)  
It's a little weird how I have set up the story, every second chapter is going to be a flashback. Those chapters are going to be based around my OC's arc with The Governor set in the time frame of 'TWD' seasons 1-4. Every other chapter is from where season 3 left off. Enjoy!  
P.S-Shout out to my beta Calcifer179. Much love bro!

1.

I sit with my head resting on the window, feeling the glass vibrate my teeth. The old bus jolts forward and I suppress a groan as my face hits the window pane. Can Tyreese not handle stick? _  
_Sasha turns to give me a comforting smile, which I return with little enthusiasm.  
Glancing at her I remember the conversation we had had not an hour ago;  
"We'll be safe with Rick. We'll be protected", she had reassured me as I helped old Mr Evans up the bus' steps, "You will be okay".

I'm so far from okay. So many thoughts are clouding my mind and I twist my hands in my lap, trying not to cry. Where is Philip? Why did he leave me?  
I'm definitely not going to ask these questions out loud, most here are grieving for their loved ones. The loved ones he killed.  
_Inhale. Exhale. Aw shit._  
I can't stop the tear as it rolls down my face and pools at my lip. I lick the salt water away and focus on my hands once more.  
The bus is packed, my leg pressing firmly against Sasha's. We're blocked in our seats by the men, children and bags littering the aisle; everyone is sweating profusely, having previously given up trying to open the windows.  
The muscles in Tyreese's broad back tense up as he drives. A dark, stone building, well actually lots of dark, stone buildings and high metal gates loom before us.  
A prison? Seriously? I sigh heavily. Like Hell I am living here.

I pause to stretch my legs before standing, as the bus pulls to a stop. I'm not tall, not by a long way, so it's not for lack of leg room, but the bus was so damn crowded and my muscles are cramping. I stick to Sasha like glue, nudging her with my bag and urging her to move forward.  
"Throw me your bags Lily", Tyreese calls out and he grunts as he catches them. So sue me, I don't pack light.  
Supporting Eileen, who is carrying her baby, as she steps off the bus, I try to avoid the looks some of the prison residents are throwing my way. I get stared at under the best of circumstances, and right now it doesn't help that I am a complete stranger to them all AND look the way I do.  
Reboarding the bus I take a quick look around.  
"Got everything?" My eyes light on the dark haired man, peering up the bus steps at me. I take in his cop uniform, a little worse for wear, the stubble on his chin, his bright blue stare. This must be Rick.  
I have seen him before, but never this close.  
"We're good Sheriff", I reply, perhaps a little stiffly. Easy Lil, play nice.  
He nods and returns back to the prison courtyard. I watch as he goes to stand by a young boy in an oversized sheriff's hat.  
Sasha is standing with my bags, pointing people in the direction of the cell block that I assume is our new 'home'.  
"Hey girl, you okay?" she asks, a slight look of sympathy flashing across her face. I look down at my boots, my lower lip quivers.  
"Yeah Sash, yeah I'm fine."  
"You don't have to be scared. Rick is good, these people are good. They helped Tyreese and I before and they'll help us all now."  
"I thought Rick went psycho and kicked you guys out?" I glance back up at her; she shakes her head and sighs.  
"He seems alright now hon, don't think about it. By the way, your bags weigh a tonne! Did you pack all of Woodbury in here?"

I snort and rake my fingers through my long hair. I wish. I wish I could _stay _in Woodbury.  
"Come on", I mutter, "Let's get this over with."

* * *

"Don't get comfy here", Rick says, already emphasising his stance as 'leader', "This cell block is not your permanent home. At first light we will help you clear out another one; you can make it your own. We are going to talk about your roles here, I expect everyone to pull their weight".  
I watch the worried glances being exchanged between a few of our elderly members and the mothers with children. We aren't a big group, but all we have done is add 20 or so less than able bodied members to Rick's already ragtag team, more mouths to feed.  
"I understand not many of you are fit or in your prime. That's okay. There is plenty you can do to help".  
I am not really paying attention to what he is ranting about. I don't really care what they assign me to do, I'm less handy than most here and I won't be happy about it no matter what.  
Rick's group is all gathered together, the cell block is packed full with the addition of us, but I take the opportunity to look at the strangers.  
A white haired man, leaning on crutches, stands to Rick's left side. He is bearded and I guess late 60s, kinda like a thin Santa Clause. Except I don't remember Santa ever having one leg.  
The girl next to him is blonde, maybe 17? She cradles a baby in her arms. I strain forward a bit, over the head of Angela seated in front of me on a camp chair, to get a better look. Babies I like, I can handle babies.  
A young couple stand behind Santa and Blondie. I can assume they are a couple; their body language is making that pretty clear. The guy is Asian, young, with hair slicked back and a large rifle balanced against his thigh. The girl is brunette and pretty, she too holds a big gun. They are observing our group with curious eyes and not a small amount of fear.  
I can see the kid in the sheriff's hat, Rick's son I guess. He is also packing heat. Shit even the child has a gun! Am I going to get a gun? I brush the thought off.  
When my eyes drift over to the next face my jaw drops as I take in the ebony skin and muscular build. Wow, Michonne. I just assumed she was dead. When she had left Woodbury and not returned it seemed a likely that she was long gone. Although, she was tough, clearly tough. Her sword still hadn't left her side I observed. What was it she had called it? A katana?  
Michonne scares the crap out of me, but a familiar presence is pretty welcome actually. She catches me staring at her and recognition is obvious in her eyes.  
On Rick's right side stands a worn looking woman, I can't guess her age. Her face is fine, and quite pretty, but her hair is short and grey and her posture stooped. She is weaponless I am somewhat happy to note. The guy next to her intimidates me from first glance. He is tall and well built, a shirtless flannel displaying some pretty impressive upper arms. It is too hard to properly see the colour of his dirty looking hair, the prison is dimly lit, but I can see the medieval looking weapon in his hands, a crossbow that looks like it weighs about as much as I do. He is scowling and for a moment he looks very familiar.  
Eileen places a hand gently on my shoulder and squeezes. The contact is comforting and I lean back into her palm. I tune back into Rick's words and hearing Philip's title, The Governor, makes me stand to attention.  
"The Governor is gone, but he will be back before we know it, maybe with a stronger, more dangerous force. The slaughter of our friends and family will not go unpunished. Until then, all we can do is rebuild."

* * *

A little later I find myself walking through the paved courtyard surrounding the buildings. There are lots of fences here, lots of closed off areas. I'd never been in a prison before, even if with all the prisoners dead and gone it is pretty terrifying. Sasha and Tyreese are standing with Sheriff Rick and the man with the crossbow, deep in conversation. I hesitate, contemplating a quick getaway back toward the cell block, but I see Sasha gesture towards me and the three men glance up. She hurries over and takes my hand.  
"Come on Lil, no time like the present."  
She practically drags me over to the huddled group. Tyreese offers me a small smile or acknowledgment and Rick nods his head. The other man, whose hair I can now see is a darkish brown, looks me up and down. His gaze is not friendly and he sneers slightly at my denim cut offs and tight fitting blouse. I guess my attire isn't 'apocalypse chic'.  
Wrapping my arms around myself I let Sasha make introductions to Rick and Daryl, the stranger's name now revealed. Daryl Dixon. As in Merle Dixon's brother Daryl? The thought makes me register that I hadn't spotted the big redneck since my arrival and knowing he would have made his presence obvious to me that can really only mean one thing…  
"Merle! Is Merle Dixon here?" I ask before I can think my question through. Daryl's blue eyes widen in surprise, and he gives me the once over again, with marginally less disdain.  
"Nah, he ain't here. He's gone."  
"I'm sorry, you're his brother right?" I pause for his nod, "He mentioned you to me a couple of times. I thought I recognised you! I was there that night at the arena…"  
Rick clears his throat and I shut up, looking down quickly. The tops of my boots and I are getting pretty well acquainted nowadays.  
"Lily", Rick says softly and I glance up from under my lashes, "Sasha says you were close with The Governor. You can understand why that concerns us. I don't want there to be any negativity here, we all need to work together. I need to know that you are on our side, I need you to help us". There is a desperate tone to his voice and I can tell that this has been worrying him since I arrived.  
I wave my hand dismissively and shrug.  
"It's fine. He left me. He did those things. I don't have to like it, but I don't doubt his guilt. Team Prison all the way. I uh…I need protection." Tyreese is nodding along to my words and Sasha reaches for my hand again.  
"You knew The Governor a long time?" Rick's voice is deeply Southern, but gentle. He doesn't sound angry, or even scared, but he doesn't sound happy, not by a mile.  
I nodded, knowing that Daryl is still staring me down.  
"Yeah, a long time, well before all this began. I used to babysit his daughter, Penny. He is…was…He looked after me. He kept me safe."  
Daryl snorts and I raise my eyes to meet him. There is a lot he wants to say, it's apparent he thinks little of me. I glare back.  
"We can keep you safe here, but you need to tell us all you know about The Governor. Your insight into him may prove helpful," Rick says, smiling thinly.  
"I never thought Philip was someone capable of the things he has done," I sigh, "I still struggle to believe it…"


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Hey guys, next chapter up! Hope you all like it. As before, constructive criticism is welcome, but be kind ;) This chapter, like every second one, is a flashback chapter. Still first person perspective, but past tense. It is set just before season 1 of TWD begins. Happy reading xo

**2.**

I drove slowly and turned into the quiet and picturesque street that was my destination. Pulling my Hyundai Elantra to a stop in front of a large, typically American house I lowered the sun visor in front of me to use the little mirror covering the back. My hair and makeup were still intact after a busy day of shopping and I raised an eyebrow at the small, inflamed area around my fresh nose stud. I had never been one for piercings, but occasionally I had the urge to do something spontaneous and the piercing parlour's neon sign had caught my eye. Live while you're young, I figured.  
Grasping the book bag that had been sitting on the passenger seat beside me, I slammed my door and made my way up the path towards the white weatherboard, locking the car behind me with aid of the little button on my key chain. I flipped through my keys idly; selecting the one I was looking for and unlocked the hardwood door. The cool air from inside the house surrounded my body and I sighed happily, the best part of my day awaiting me.  
Neither of the Blakes were home yet, Penny would be arriving by school bus in about 20 minutes, Philip would still be at work for another few hours and that suited me just fine. Dumping my book bag by the coat stand in the hallway I proceeded through to the country style kitchen, making myself comfortable and getting snacks ready for Penny. I worked quickly and efficiently, humming the latest Justin Timberlake pop anthem to myself. The front door made an audible sigh as it swung open and a bang as it slammed shut, eager footsteps clattered up the hallway towards me. Penny dropped her backpack to the floor next to my bag and entered the kitchen, a grin plastered across her round face.  
"Lily! Lily you'll never guess what happened at school today!"  
Her enthusiasm made me smile warmly and I seized the little girl for a hug.  
"Hey darling! You had a good day? Tell me all about it," I expressed, gesturing to the plates of sandwiches and cookies that now sat on the table in the centre of the room.  
Penny pulled up a chair and immediately tucked in. Not for the first time I wondered how she was so skinny despite her ferocious appetite.  
"Damien Smith punched Jack Winston right in the face! It was so scary", she told me between mouthfuls, "They both got sent to the principal's office. Tammy thinks Damien is going to get…expelled." She practically whispered the last word, her green eyes widening as if she has just mentioned something taboo.  
I chuckled,  
"Well that would probably serve Damien right hey? I bet they just call his parents though." I started wiping down the bench and then nicked a cookie from Penny's plate. "Should we get started on your homework lovey?"  
Penny moaned and rolled her eyes, but stood up from the table and picked up both our bags from near the kitchen doorway.  
"Alright, but can we do homework in the lounge room?"  
"No TV!" I waggled my finger at her and accepted my bag, "I doubt your daddy will approve of that when you have better things you should be doing."

* * *

I watched Penny as she lay, stomach down, on the plush grey carpet. She bit the end of her pencil before scrawling an answer and looking up at me for confirmation. I glanced over and nodded, feeling more than a little bit proud. I hated to admit it, but the 8 year old was quickly becoming more academically capable than I was, particularly in maths, my real weakness. School had always bored me, especially the earlier years. It wasn't until college that I had actually started to excel. Not that business studies was all that challenging, but I guessed my priorities had just changed.  
A beam of sunlight peeking through the curtained window reflected off a framed picture on the nearby bookcase and I stared at the photo and felt tears prick my eyes. I knew the image well; in fact it had been me behind the camera capturing Philip, Sarah and Penny who were all holding each other close in a tight embrace, broad smiles on every face.  
It had been taken just a few short weeks before Sarah had died, and in spite of the fact nearly 18 months had passed since her tragic accident I don't think any of us were close to healing yet. Especially Philip. He had never been the same since that day.  
I heard the front door open and smiled down at Penny,  
"Sounds like your dad is home!" Right on cue Philip entered the lounge room, removing his suit jacket and laying it carefully on the arm of the couch.  
"There are my girls!" He declared, bending down to kiss the top of Penny's blonde head and beaming at me. His smile didn't quite reach his eyes, however, and I could immediately tell something was wrong.  
"Hi daddy!" Penny gushed, adoration all over her face as she showed him her school work and he pulled her into a one armed hug, a little awkwardly because of his daughter's position on the floor.  
"Good job sweetheart, you can watch TV now if you want," he exclaimed, passing her the remote.  
My brown eyes locked onto his and his glance flickered towards the kitchen door. I took the hint and rose from the swede couch to follow him, Penny already absorbed in some cartoon or other.

* * *

Philip stood with his hands pressed against the grain of the kitchen table, leaning slightly as if he was using the wood to balance himself.  
"Are you okay Philip?" I placed my hand gently on his right shoulder. My voice sounded relaxed to my ear, but inside I could feel the panic rising like bile from my stomach. Philip Blake was one of the most collected people I had ever known. I had started babysitting for the Blakes when I was 15 and Penny just 2, not even toilet trained yet. Before then I had known Philip and Sarah through our church; myself, my parents and the younger couple having sat side by side on a pew for several years. In all those years the only time I had seen him drop his calm façade and break down was at Sarah's funeral, I had wrapped my arm around his waist and watched quietly as the tall, strong man had sobbed openly into his hands.  
He reached into the pocket of his neatly ironed pants and handed me a crumpled piece of newspaper. My hands couldn't help but shake a little as I smoothed the article out and laid it flat on the table. I skim read it, only the title really registering in my brain. 'Dead Man Walks'.  
I giggled nervously, but one look at the fear in Philip's eyes shut me up.  
"Oh you can't seriously be worried about this? It was probably a medical error Philip, someone didn't check his pulse properly, he was hooked up to a dodgy machine. Those kinds of things happen all the time." I giggled again and pushed the clipping aside, moving to pick up the dishes from Penny's after school snack.  
"True, but not three times in one week Lily. They are talking about some sort of fever, a pandemic. It's going to be worse than swine flu." His voice was higher pitched than usual, southern drawl almost unrecognisable.  
"You watch way too much late night television. These things always get blown out of proportion. You aren't actually suggesting that this fever causes people to rise from the dead." I laughed loudly and placed the plates in the sink, turning on the tap to start washing up.  
"That is exactly what I am suggesting," he replied, his voice even and deathly serious. I snorted derisively, in truth much more shaken up by his words than I wanted to indicate. It was just plain ridiculous. All those long days working in a small office had clearly gotten to him.  
He sighed heavily and touched the back off my neck, at my hairline.  
"Please be careful. Come straight here tomorrow afternoon. You're studying in the library yes? Don't talk to any strangers and lock your car."  
"Yes _mom_!" He smiled wryly at my impertinence and started drying the dishes I had finished scrubbing.  
"Nice nose stud by the way, are you a rebel now?"  
"You know it!" I stuck my tongue out at him playfully, happy that his negativity had been defused and headed to the lounge room. I could use some cartoons and Penny cuddles.

The next day everything went to shit…


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Hi all! I meant to post this chapter yesterday, but I was busy packing my house up as I moved today! A couple of quick little facts; My cover art is of Sonja Kinski who was the face model for the character Zoey from 'Left 4 Dead' and my title is taken from a Governor quote from season 3 of 'The Walking Dead' :) Hopefully I'll get chapter 4 up tomorrow, but until then enjoy!

**3.**

Mrs Yates is sitting in the cell block, near the entrance. Head bent and brow furrowed as she inspects her knitting carefully. She hears my footfalls as I re-enter the stone structure and looks up to meet me, a wide smile filling her aged face.  
"Well hello dear! How are you going?" she queries.  
"I'm going good Evelyn," I smile warmly. Evelyn Yates is the oldest member of our group and while she is incredibly observant and sharp as a tack in a lot of ways, I am beginning to question her senility.  
"You're so pretty Lily, you really should do modelling."  
"Oh yes! Couldn't you just see me on the cover of 'Undead Weekly'?" I say, striking a pose.  
Evelyn grins slowly, perhaps not really getting my joke, but I hear a laugh from behind me. The mini deputy is standing in the doorway, sheriff's hat askew and close up I can see the resemblance between him and Rick.  
"Carl Grimes," he introduces himself, extending a grubby hand. I take it gingerly and his grasp is much firmer than mine. Freckles litter his nose and he is taller than I first thought, almost my height.  
"Lily Foster," I pull my hand away and smile politely, "Do you know where we are all sleeping tonight?"  
"Dad was saying some of you in here, some of you in tents in the yard. It's looking like a warm night." His smile is sweet, but doesn't meet his eyes, he is obviously guarded.  
I nod and turn back to Evelyn, who is knitting away, more focused on her work than anything else.  
Most of the Woodburians are lingering in the cell block, a few sorting through bags, a few looking after the resident children.  
The grey haired woman of indeterminate age is now feeding the baby I had previously seen in the young girl's arms. The baby's happy coos are audible over the chatter in the building and I move towards them, curiousity getting the better of me. I have always loved babies.  
"Hi," I venture, hoping my smile is friendly. The woman looks up and matches my smile and I quickly exhale, not even realising I had been holding my breath, "I'm Lily."  
"Carol." Lines etch her face, but her expression is pleasant and I move a little closer.  
"Is this your baby?" I ask, reaching out a finger to softly stroke the infant (I am guessing girl) on the cheek.  
"Aw no," she laughs, "This is Rick's daughter Judith."  
"She is beautiful. Her mother…?" I don't have to finish my question; tears have filled Carol's eyes. "I'm sorry," I look away awkwardly, feeling bad for causing the sudden emotional flow.  
"It's okay Lily, thank you." She wipes the tears away and observes me more closely. I shift under her gaze, I don't seem to be making a very good first impression around here and frankly the entire situation is uncomfortable. "How old are you?"  
"22." My reply sounds a little rude to my ear so I hazard another smile.  
"Oh I would have guessed younger. You have a very youthful look." She smiles so I know that she isn't trying to offend me, but I can't help but squirm. People have been judging me by my appearance for as long as I can remember. I don't really help the situation, but hey, I like looking good.  
"You know, Maggie is just a little older than you and Beth is about to turn 18. I bet it will be nice for you to have some girlfriends your own age." Judith has finished feeding and Carol lowers the bottle and points towards the two girls sitting in a cell nearby.  
Carol is very much the 'mother hen' type and I welcome her kindness. Not many people make an effort with me these days and I have noticed that even the others from Woodbury have started to distance themselves from me. I guess they have the same concerns that Rick does, that my relationship with Philip will affect my judgement. I can't say their fears are unjustified, for the last 18 or so months he has been a father to me.

* * *

Setting up my tent in the grassy yard outside is taking me a long time, I've never had to do it by myself and my inexperience is apparent. I give a frustrated yell and throw the tent pieces to the ground, wiping my hands on the back of my shorts. A figure pushes past me and I am practically knocked on my arse by the full contact of their arm against my shoulder. Daryl stoops to pick up my battered tent and starts effortlessly assembling it.  
"Thank you!" I gasp genuinely, surprised to see him doing me a favour after his attitude earlier. He ignores my appreciation and continues with the construction, completing it in just a few minutes.  
"You looked so pathetic, pissed me off how useless ya are", he offers as explanation, turning to frown at me. I ignore his jibe and thank him again.  
"Whatever princess," he sneers, storming off to retrieve his crossbow from where he had obviously dropped it and heading toward the prison buildings.  
"That was weird," I mutter to myself and watch his form disappear through the gate and into the yard surrounding the main cell block before chucking my bags through the tent flap. 'Camping' alone will be a new experience and I nervously glance around, praying the high fences are enough to keep me safe. A few zombies are ambling aimlessly around the outskirts of our sanctuary, some pressing their faces up to the wire of the outer fence and moaning in a way that makes the hair on my arms stand on end. I can smell their decaying flesh from here and shudder involuntarily. Nothing terrifies me more than these undead monsters that now overrun our world and I find myself once again longing for Philip's protective presence. Unable to keep up appearances anymore I crawl into my tent and wrapping my arms around my knees let the tears come.

* * *

It only seems a short while later that I hear rapid footsteps approaching my tent. Hastily wiping my face and brushing my hair with my fingers, I poke my head out of the red fabric of my tent and see Michonne jogging casually towards me. I don't recall having ever seen Michonne walk anywhere, menial tasks seem to bore her and she appears to lack the patience to get places slowly. Maybe it's just her attuned survival instincts taking over, but I doubt she is ever totally motionless.  
She stops in front of me and I can see her muscles twitching under her shiny skin, a slow bead of sweat descending from her temple to her chest. It must be getting around 6pm now, but it is still very warm outside.  
"Lily. Lily, how are you?"  
Coming from Michonne the question stumps me. Her time at Woodbury was brief, but she made it darn clear that she doesn't suffer fools and what she lacks in people skills she makes up for in intuitiveness, I bet she can spot a liar a hundred miles away. I also know she wouldn't be asking the question just to make small talk.  
"I'm…I'm confused Michonne. One day I am enjoying as happy a life as I can be and the next strangers are telling me that Philip has brutally murdered his own people and my home is no longer safe. I'm tired. I'm dirty. I'm scared…"  
She raises her hand to halt my vent and I suck in my breath, biting my lip hard to stop myself from ranting more.  
"This must be difficult for you. But I know you know that what Rick says is true. That what I say is true. He isn't a good man Lily, he is evil. Worse than any walker you could come across," she sighs exasperatedly at my head shaking, "You know he was keeping his daughter in his apartment. Feeding her rats and meat to keep her 'alive' as one of them."  
My head snaps up fast.  
"No, no that isn't possible. We buried Penny months ago! She got shot during an attack on Woodbury, I put flowers on her grave, Philip and I cried together. She died Michonne." A million thoughts run through my mind. Penny, my Penny, she had become one of them? How was any of this happening?  
"I took care of her myself, the psycho was sicker than I thought, letting his daughter exist like that," Michonne spits, "I take it you never actually saw the body they buried?"  
I frown, remembering back to that day.  
"Well, no, actually. The grave was already there when everyone arrived to mourn. Philip said that he had wanted to be alone with her, bury her himself."  
"I can guarantee you that everything out of that arsehole's mouth was a lie Lily. Don't be an idiot. Think about it, you trust me right? You trust Karen? We saw the despicable things he did. He left Andrea for dead, killed Milton, turned Merle into one of them," she points to the stumbling shapes near the prison fences, "You need to put this behind you. Trust Rick, only you were close enough to The Governor to know how he thinks. You can help us figure out his next move."  
"Shit Michonne, I can't hear this. I know what he did, we passed the bodies on the way here, but...I'm not ready. I loved him like a father, he was my world. Doing these things, leaving me alone, he has betrayed me in the worst way," hot tears roll down my face as I struggle to get the words out, "Please give me time."  
Michonne nods curtly and for a second I think she is going to hug me, but instead she just holds her arms stiffly by her sides and cocks her head.  
"Come on, our people are cooking dinner now, the sun is about to set and you need some warm food in you." The invitation to eat with her is as close to sympathy as I am going to get and I gladly accept.  
"I'll be up in a minute." No time now to think about what Michonne has revealed to me, I can spend all night trying to make sense of everything. Hopping back into my tent I rummage through my bags and find the large, laminated clutch I am looking for. I use the last of the sunlight and a compact, hand mirror to help me reapply my makeup and remove all signs of my crying. The last thing I need is to attract any negative attention from this group and a tear streaked face is not a great way to make friends.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** Finally got around to uploading this chapter! I am still a little unsure of it, so let me know what you all think. Excited that things have finally started happening and I can explore the character of The Governor more now :) Enjoy! Please review, follow and all that 3**  
**

**4.**

When I was in high school, I had actively avoided the library. It wasn't a place I would willingly spend an afternoon or even an hour. But since commencing college studies a few years prior I had often been thankful for the existence of libraries and spent many a day reading and writing quietly.  
The public library here wasn't very big or well stocked, but it had everything I needed for a productive study session and I was looking forward to a break from reality. Philip's words the night before had shaken me and I hadn't turned on a TV or started up a computer all evening for fear of what I might find there. Maybe he wasn't just a disillusioned 'madman', maybe there was genuine cause for concern? I laughed aloud at the ridiculousness and entered the library, letting the large door swing shut behind me.  
I selected one of the large tables nearest the door and laid out everything I would need for the afternoon. I had been working quietly for a while before I noticed it. The silence. Of course, libraries are notoriously quiet, but this was different. There was no one else here. I walked softly towards the front desk and saw that all the computers were turned on, the systems up and running, but not even the librarian seemed to be around. A few papers were scattered randomly across the desk and a pile of books was waiting by the computer, ready to be scanned and returned to their homes on the shelves. A half-drunk cup of coffee was also sitting on the desk and I cautiously touched the ceramic mug; still warm. Whoever was here left in a bit of a hurry.  
I was officially starting to get a bit freaked out. I had been here a hundred times and never once had this building been completely deserted. Philip's warning rang in my ears and without a second thought I chucked my stationery and books back into my bag and was out the door.  
The sidewalk appeared to be a little quieter than usual too, but the roads were busy. Cars seemed to be traveling faster than the speed limit permitted, but I didn't know if that was just warped perception due to my panicked state or a genuine observation.  
I made my way hurriedly to the Blakes' house, the fifteen minute drive taking me less than ten and slammed the door of my sky blue Hyundai behind me before practically bounding up the path to the house that had been a second home to me for so many years.

* * *

I hesitated for a moment when, upon pushing my key into the keyhole to unlock it, the wooden door swung open gently, already unlocked. Philip never left the door unlocked. If I hadn't been worried before I certainly was now and I cautiously entered the hallway, gripping my bag in front of me like it was a protective shield. I rounded the corner of the kitchen and bumped straight into Philip, who was holding the portable telephone aloft in one hand, ready to strike. His eyes widened in surprise at the sight of me and he dropped the phone, pulling me to him for a huge hug. Despite our emotional closeness we had never had a particularly physical relationship, only ever touching each other in times of distress or especially tender moments. I gathered that his affection was caused by the former and hugged him back. Philip was easily a foot taller than me, and I felt very safe wrapped in his strong embrace. He pulled away and grabbed my shoulders, looking directly into my eyes;  
"Are you bit?"  
"Am I what?!"  
"Did you get bitten? Did anyone hurt you?!"  
"No! No, of course not! What is going on Philip? The library…it was so eerie and empty and there are so many people out on the road in cars…Why is your door unlocked?" I couldn't hide the quaver in my voice as I questioned him. What did he mean by 'bit'?  
"I left it unlocked for you," he answered, releasing my arms and picking up the phone from the ground near our feet, "I didn't want today of all days to be the first time you forgot your keys."  
"Where is Penny? Is she still at school?"  
He shook his head in response and gestured down the hallway to the staircase;  
"I kept her home today, she is in her room playing. I am…I'm trying not to worry her just yet. I was just about to call you when I heard the door creak open."  
"I was going to ask if you made a habit of using a phone as a weapon," I said dryly, my attempt at humour falling flat.  
"You need to see this," Philip intoned quietly, leading me into the lounge room and switching on the TV. He pressed the mute button on the remote and it took me a while to realise exactly what I was seeing. It was a broadcast of some description, the images very graphic.  
"Oh God…" Mutilated bodies lying in residential streets and homes caused me to retch violently. Philip, almost absentmindedly, handed me a small plastic bag lined bin and I continued gagging, unable to tear my watery eyes away from the video footage on the screen in front of me.  
"Philip", I gasped, "Philip what is going on?"

* * *

I blew deeply into the paper bag, trying to focus on calming my breathing while listening to Philip's words.  
"I know it doesn't seem possible…We will get through this…I have a plan." Philip's reassurances where only half registering in my brain, I couldn't seem to understand exactly what he was saying. It was like he was speaking a different language. All I knew was this couldn't be happening.  
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Penny approaching us nervously;  
"Dad, is Lily okay?"  
My heart filled with love at the sight of that darling little girl. She was the most precious thing in my life; like a little sister, a daughter even, and the concern in her voice almost brought me to tears.  
"I'm fine sweetheart," I comforted her, lowering my paper bag and forcing a smile, "I'm just fine."  
She nodded, not totally convinced and moved to sit on my lap. I brought her close to my chest and cradled her like I would an infant. Everything about her presence soothed me and I looked to Philip. "What do we do next?"  
He nodded, pleased to see me more relaxed, "I need to go and get supplies. We're not going to be safe here for much longer. Pack up the house, there are bags in the wardrobes. Grab everything that you think might be useful. Penny…," he turned to address his daughter, "You have to listen to Lily. You're going to be okay darling, we just have to go somewhere for a little while, until things have calmed down here."  
I don't think she had grasped the situation, Hell, I barely had, but she smiled up at Philip and assured him she would do as I said.  
Philip grabbed some shopping bags from out of a kitchen cupboard and headed to the entry way, watching his little girl skip up the stairs.  
"I don't understand Philip! Do we really have to leave?" I knew my eyes were wide with fear and I couldn't raise my voice above a whisper.  
"I'm sorry Lily, but I spent all night watching the news in the hope that there would be some answers. Things are going from bad to worse, the TV may be saying to stay put, but if we want to get out it's now or never." He gripped my shoulder firmly and faced me toward the staircase. "Be a good girl and start packing. We'll head to your house before we leave okay?"  
"Do you even know where we are going to go?" My hands were shaking and I clenched them into tight fists. Only hours ago I had been worried about getting all my study done, wondering if my girlfriends might want to go to the movies on the weekend and now I was scared, confused and seemingly facing an uncertain future. I felt like I was experiencing emotional whiplash.  
"We're going somewhere safe honey. Just start packing." He was out the door in a flash; long strides taking him quickly to his black BMW. How had I not noticed it parked in the driveway when I had first arrived? I was obviously not on the ball when I was scared.  
I started up the stairs, taking them two at a time and arrived at Penny's bedroom door which was slightly ajar. I peeked in and observed her quietly as she piled underwear and other assorted clothes into a bag.  
"Don't forget your hairbrush and hair things sweetie," I spoke softly, pushing the door open further.  
She greeted me with a smile, but I could see how twitchy she was. The poor kid was terrified.  
"Do you think daddy will let me bring these?" She asked, holding up a couple of dolls. I grinned and nodded;  
"I don't see why not, they won't take up much space. You keep packing Penny and I'll just be in your dad's room okay?"  
I had never been in the room Philip and Sarah had once shared, it had always felt like an invasion of privacy and there had been no need to go in there up until now. Trying not to look too closely at these foreign surroundings, I pulled open the door of the large, mahogany wardrobe, dumping the duffel bag and suitcase I found there onto the queen sized bed. I emptied the wardrobe first; shirts, pants and a few pairs of running shoes.  
Sarah's wedding dress was hanging in a clear bag at the back of the wardrobe and I paused for a second, considering packing it as well, but thought better of it and made for the chest of drawers instead. I blushed at the thought of rifling through Philip's underwear drawer, but got it done quickly. Underpants, socks, vests and t-shirts joined the other clothes in the suitcase. There was a small picture of Philip and Sarah on the bedside table; they both looked young and happy. It reminded me of my own parents and my thoughts lingered on them for a long time.

* * *

My college let out a week or two before Penny's elementary school did and over time we had developed a solid routine. I would drive for the 5 or so hours from Alabama and spend my holidays home in Georgia. While Penny was still in school I would spend the first part of my day relaxing, catching up with friends or studying and then my afternoons looking after the 8 year old.  
Once Penny's school semester was over we would enjoy each other's company all day, going swimming or to the movies regularly. My parents travelled a lot, but always made sure they were back for the last part of my holidays and I had been looking forward to seeing them after the hectic school year. They had gone to Florida this year.  
I reached into the pocket of my Diesel jeans and pulled out my cell phone and switched it on. It buzzed a few times as text messages and missed calls rolled in and I flicked through them, not sure what I was hoping to see. They were all messages of love and worry; from my parents, my friends, and the guy who I had been casually dating the last couple of months…  
I tried calling my parent's cell phones, but there was no response, not even a dial tone. I convinced myself they were just busy, enjoying their holiday and simply getting paranoid over the news reports like Philip seemed to be, so continued packing. I threw the picture of the Blakes into the suitcase on top of the half folded clothes.  
Everything from the bathroom and toilet went into the duffel bag; soaps, toilet paper, towels, face washers, deodorants, shower gel…To the casual observer it would seem that Philip had a penchant for toiletries, but in reality I knew that it was Sarah who had had the shopping addiction and quietly thanked her for having ensured her bathroom was always well stocked.  
I half carried/half dragged the bags down the hall and stairs, checking on Penny on my way back through, and went into the kitchen to start gathering what I could from there. What did one take on a long term 'camping' trip? What exactly did Philip have planned?  
I heard the front door softly screech open and mentally cursed myself for forgetting to lock it after Philip had left. Expecting to see him standing in the hallway loaded with shopping bags I was surprised to set eyes on Mr Jones, Philip's amiable neighbour who was silhouetted in the door.  
"Oh hey, Mr Jones! Have you been watching the news? Crazy stuff! You should have knocked, nearly gave me a heart attack," I joked, approaching him.  
The elderly man raised his head awkwardly and revealed a large, open wound which exposed the tendons in his neck and shoulder. His eyes were no longer the eyes of the person I had once known and I could smell his fetid breath from several paces away.  
"Mr Jones…You're bleeding," I started, unsure of what to do. I could feel my heart racing in my chest and was unconsciously backing away from him.  
He let out a low snarl and I barely had time to scream as he lunged for me. Tripping back on the carpeted step behind me, I cried out again. I could hear Penny yelling from the top of the stairs, her voice a terrified shriek. Mr Jones was nearly on top of me, his long arms reaching forward as I crab crawled backwards up the stairs, not daring to remove my gaze from his bloodshot eyes and colourless irises. All of a sudden, there was a loud crunching sound and my attacker fell to the ground in a crumpled heap, coagulated blood oozing slowly from the top of his skull and trickling down to stain the carpet of the stairs. Philip stood behind him, a small axe in hand, overflowing shopping bags surrounding his feet.  
"Are you guys okay?" He pulled me up from my crouched position on the staircase and looked me up and down, checking for any injuries.  
"What do you think Philip? I don't know if I'll ever be okay again," I gasped, before throwing up violently onto the polished floorboards of the entry way and Mr Jones' mangled form.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Chapter 5 yay! Not a particularly action packed chapter, but I needed to write it to set the tone for Lily and Daryl's relationship and introduce her to the other members of the prison group. Hope you enjoy.  
Thank you to those who have reviewed, favourited and followed so far; I really appreciate it. Much love!

**5.**

On my way up to the prison, I pass the majority of the Woodburians sitting around improvised tables, in the safeguarded area outside of the buildings. Karen and a few of the others had been preparing dinner earlier, heating up cans over a small fire, and my friends look like they are enjoying the comfort of a hot meal despite their present circumstances. The sunset imparts a pretty view to the meal time and the prison actually seems quite home-like out here in the courtyard. I think about joining them for a moment, but know Michonne is expecting me and I don't want to be impolite and refuse her summons to dine inside.  
Everyone turns to look at me as I enter and a slow blush crimsons my cheeks. I never used to be so shy, normally a large group is the environment I am most comfortable in and I have always thrived in communal conditions. Things are different now though and there is no reason for these people to instantly warm to me. I know I will have to work to gain their trust, but at this point I don't even know if I am bothered about being accepted. A big part of me can't help but blame this group for what has happened. Why am I feeling so damn awkward around them if I am not trying to impress anyone?  
I am pleased, but not surprised; to see Sasha sitting at the long table that looks like it has been taken directly from the prison cafeteria. She waves to me and her friendly manner is welcome amongst the negative vibes I am getting from the others in Cell Block C. As I walk over, I avoid looking at the faces of those around me and pull up an empty chair between Sasha and the Asian boy I had seen previously. He gives me a jovial smile and I am thrilled that at least someone isn't treating me like something to be feared. The tension in the air is palpable, a heavy silence has descended over the members of the group and I notice a few hesitant glances being exchanged between them. All of the prison locals are here, minus Tyreese and Carl, who I assume have secured watch duty.  
The pause seems to go on for a long time before Michonne clears her throat and speaks confidently;  
"I invited Lily to eat with us. I hope no one has a problem with that."  
I am a little taken aback she is showing her support of me so blatantly. While we were at Woodbury together she had been less than kind, it had been evident that we had nothing in common and she had no time for my 'trivial' interests. If anyone has a right to hate me it is Michonne, and that hate should be mutual. Andrea had filled me in on the necessary details about the confrontation with Philip. I cannot explain her sudden change in attitude towards me, but I appreciate her effort.  
"Of course not," Rick smiles at Michonne, deliberately dodging my gaze, "She is welcome here."  
Daryl, who is sitting opposite me, mumbles something under his breath and Sasha stares daggers at him and gives my thigh a supportive squeeze under the table.  
Chatter slowly resumes and the mood in the room lifts a touch as people start eating. It's mostly tinned food, something I have grown used to over the course of the last year and a half and I have no complaints. A pan of dark meat is being passed around the table and most are happily accepting the fresh foodstuff. The boy next to me hands me the pan;  
"I'm Glenn," he ventures cheerfully, "And this is my fiancée Maggie." He points with his unoccupied hand to the woman sitting on the other side of him. So they _are_ a couple, I am usually pretty good at reading people and their relationships.  
"Lily, Lily Foster. And this is…?" I indicate the meat in the pan, which is brown and tough looking.  
"Squirrel," Glenn answers with a wicked grin.  
"Oh that is so gross," I wrinkle my nose in disgust and gently push the pan aside, "None for me thank you."  
Across the table, Daryl chuckles under his breathe. I had no idea he was paying attention to mine and Glenn's exchange and my eyes dart up quickly to meet the redneck's light blue stare. For a second I think I see a touch of humour in his face, maybe even something like kindness, but it is gone in a flash and a scowl soon replaces the upturned quirk of his lips.  
"The food I caught not good enough for ya? Think ya deserve better? Sorry princess, we're fresh out of caviar."  
"Oh leave her alone Daryl," Maggie jumps to my defence, "Squirrel is an acquired taste after all."  
Daryl glowers, not shifting his gaze from me. I feel hot and uncomfortable and wriggle in my chair. A couple of other diners have now tilted their heads to watch the confrontation and this only heightens my self-consciousness.  
"I'm sorry Daryl; I didn't mean to cause offence. I'm sure it tastes lovely, I just have a weak stomach that's all." Crossing my fingers I have managed to neutralize the situation, I give my most pleasing smile, the one people used to say could stop traffic.  
He seems staggered for a moment and I mentally high-five myself, celebrating the small victory.  
My entire life I ruled the roost. At home, at school…I was always good at controlling social situations and great at making friends. There isn't a lot that can be said about me, but one thing I had always been sure of was my way with people. Even at Woodbury I had managed to stay on top, charming my way through everything as I had done successfully for the past 22 years. But here, well, here was different. I wasn't really in the market for new friends and even if I thought I could become 'queen bee' that certainly wasn't my goal. We weren't in high school after all. But my momma had always told me to fight fire with water and that is exactly what I was doing.  
Besides, there wasn't a snowball's chance I could take on Daryl Dixon, if he was anything like his brother I would be much better off if I didn't antagonise him.  
Somehow though I knew sweet talking him wasn't going to be that easy;  
"Ya don't just have a weak stomach sweetheart, got a weak mind too. Ya a fool if ya think anyone wants ya here. Think we'd just welcome The Governor's pet in with open arms? Think again," he snarls. His sudden change from rude and standoffish to cold and callous stuns me and a few of the others have actually stopped chewing in surprise.  
"Daryl that was uncalled for," Carol chastises, seemingly just has shocked as I am at his behaviour.  
"Whatever, I'm gonna go help Ty and Carl on look out. Got a problem with that too?" He forcefully pushes his chair back from the table and stalks out of the room quickly, leaving a very baffled group in his wake.  
Rick finally makes eye contact with me and sighs;  
"Don't pay him no mind Lily. Daryl can be…volatile. He just lost his brother after all."  
I nod dumbly and shove a couple of forkfuls of tasteless canned vegetables into my mouth.  
I am shaken by the redneck's attitude, but not upset by his words. As much as I am loathe to admit it, he has a valid point.  
Everyone at the prison has so far given me the benefit of the doubt and while they have been distant and guarded, no one has been cruel…well except Daryl. Really, they have every right to kick my arse from here to Kingdom Come. I am the ally of their enemy, the 'ward' of The Governor. And as much as I want to hate these bastards for contributing to my life being torn apart and forcing me away from Philip, I just can't. They are good people, kind people. A family. Just like Penny, Philip and I used to be.  
Quiet chatter resumes amongst those sitting around the table and Glenn sparks up a conversation with me, taking the time to introduce Beth, the blonde girl and Hershel, the white haired man. Hershel is Maggie and Beth's father and I perceive he is the 'statesman' of the group. Rick seems to respect him greatly and listens intently to every word the elder softly intones. I like him instantly.  
At the end of the meal, Beth helps her father stand and grabs his crutches from where they are leaning. Hershel notices my sideways glances at the empty space where his right foot and lower leg should be and grins, showing nice, even teeth;  
"I got bit a few weeks ago, when we first arrived here. Rick, God bless him, he saved my life." He places a large hand on the sheriff's shoulder, "I owe him everything." Rick reciprocates Hershel's warm smile.  
I can tell that Hershel is trying to enforce the idea within me that Rick is an honourable man and I reward his attempt by beaming at the pair. They really are trying hard to get me on their side.  
I don't know what Michonne, Sasha and Tyreese have told them about me or my connection to The Governor, but it's plain that Rick believes I can help their group defeat him. I don't know what they are expecting of me, but chances are I am just going to end up disappointing them.

* * *

After the meal is finished and everyone's hunger sated, I offer to help Beth and Carol look after Judith and do the dishes, but they wave me away with words of thanks and orders to get to bed.  
A few select members of Woodbury are making their way into the cell block, having finished their own dinners. Rick has allowed the most elderly and vulnerable to slumber safely in bunks and I admire his generous nature before whinging internally about my own sleeping arrangements outside in the yard. I like my creature comforts and there isn't anything comfortable about resting in a sleeping bag in my opinion.

The air outside the stuffy cell block is crisp and refreshing. I breathe in deeply and start slowly making my way toward my tent, watching the remainder of the Woodburians trundling along to their own camping areas.  
I'm not paying careful attention to where I am going and quickly regret my lack of care when I stumble over a loose part of the pavement and fall to the ground, hands smarting as they make contact with the concrete beneath me. Before I can collect myself, a voice is calling my name and I freeze when I see Daryl's boots appear next to me. I shy away from his hands as they reach down to help me up and stand by myself, a little shakily.  
He is closer than I expect and I widen the distance between us, taking a cautious step back. I'm not one for confrontation, but my body language is apparently enough to tell him to back off, because he readjusts the crossbow on his back and then folds his arms across his body. I realise he isn't going to touch me, in any capacity, and slightly relax my stance, looking down to inspect the damage done to my palms.  
"God are ya some kind of idiot? Who trips over nothin'?" He manages to sound pissed off and amused all at once.  
"I'll have you know that this terrain is deceptively unstable. Plus it's getting dark, my night vision certainly leaves something to be desired."  
"Ya actually talk so weird. Ya went to college?"  
I shrug,  
"I was in college when all this went down. Guess I'm a damn sight more educated than you are." I bristle, instantly wishing I had chosen my words more carefully and waiting for the stinging retort that is sure to follow my rudeness, but he merely cocks his head and looks down at my hands.  
"Ya gonna let me check those?"  
I shake my head and shove my hands into my pockets, wincing as my open wounds chafe against the denim fabric.  
"They are fine, no harm done. Thanks for checking on me. After what you said before you are the last person I would expect to show concern, but then again, you seem to be offering me an awful lot of help so far."  
"'Wasn't deliberately coming this way to check on ya," he scoffs, "When an injured animal crosses your path ya can't just let it pass without making sure it doesn't need to be put down first. I'm not a total arsehole ya know."  
"No I can see that, you're a regular Mother Theresa."  
"Speak for yerself Barbie. Ya seem awful keen to betray The Governor, for all your claims that he ain't done ya no wrong and meant the world to ya."  
"He did mean the world to me! But that world is long gone now; it disappeared when he murdered my friends and left me for dead. It's about survival. Surely you would understand that? Merle told me all about your hunting, about your ability to stay alive no matter the circumstance. This is how I stay alive. If I need to tell you all Philip's secrets and plans in order to keep my head then so be it. You and I both know I wouldn't stand a chance out there," I motion wildly to the forests beyond the fence line and the Biters that have congregated nearby, "I'm not as stupid as you seem to think I am. I know my worth or lack thereof." Deep down I know I am lying through my teeth, Philip barely told me a thing about his future plans and even if he had it I doubt I could ever be disloyal to him, in spite of everything.  
I have practically shouted the words at Daryl and to his credit he is listening intently to my ranting. I respire severely and abruptly burst into tears, surprising even myself. I don't think I can remember a day where I have cried this much…not in a long time anyway.  
All of a sudden I am intensely aware of the fact that I'm wailing uncontrollably in front of a relative stranger and choosing not to observe Daryl's reaction to my distress, start off at a run, towards my tent once more.  
I don't look back until I arrive at my makeshift home and by then he is gone.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** Hey guys! Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, favourited and followed so far. It's awesome! Please let me know if you think I should bump the rating of this fic up, it's getting pretty violent! This is mostly a narrative chapter, but I loved writing it and hope you enjoy reading it. Feedback is always so appreciated :D  
As always a huge thank you and shout out to my beta Calcifer179 :)  
**Disclaimer: **I don't own 'The Walking Dead' or it's characters (although I wish I did!)

**6.**

Philip seemed to have cottoned on to the whole 'end of the world' thing a lot faster than most people. When we had first headed out onto the road, started traveling from place to place there were more people than Biters and some were even still going about their day to day lives, ignorant to the chaos around them. It was only a matter of days, however, before panic really set in and then the roads were packed with travelers just like us, fleeing their homes out of fear and desperation.  
The radio broadcasts were constant for a week or so, urging people to head to 'safe zones' and evacuation centers in places like Atlanta, but it didn't take long before all the radio provided was white noise and then we had to accept that there were no real safe zones.  
Our first few nights of camping seemed like they could have just been a normal, family trip. There was no undead close by, no obvious dangers and I had begun to doubt Philip, wondering if maybe I had exaggerated the incident with Mr Jones and there was no real cause for concern. I may have been in denial.  
We had gone to my house, just as Philip had promised, before leaving our small hometown. I had bolted recklessly inside, hoping that maybe my parents had returned early from Florida and all was well. Of course, there was no sign of them, except for the half a dozen voice messages on the answering machine, all of which expressed concern for my safety. It was so distressing to think that my parents and I may never know what had really happened to one another, but I couldn't allow myself to think like that. It was too hard to imagine not making contact with them again.  
I'd grabbed everything from my home that I wanted or thought could come in handy. Our large, modern kitchen had lacked in canned foods and first aid kits, but I'd scored plenty of batteries, some torches, more toiletries including my makeup and personal items, lots of clothes, blankets and towels and added all the items to the already overflowing BMW we were driving in. Philip had laughed at my embarrassment when he had caught me packing my contraceptive pills and I had had to explain that it meant I could regulate and skip my monthly cycles. It may have seemed like a ludicrous thing to think to bring with me, but I knew it would come in handy while on the road for an indeterminate amount of time.  
It was on day five that we had our first real encounter with the Biters, as we had started calling them. While driving we would see one every now and then, in passing, but they could have been simply mistaken for slightly slow hitchhikers, ambling along the highway. This time though, was terrifying.

* * *

We had met up with numerous other survivors over the last week and most had been instantly drawn to Philip. In his other life he had worked a dull, office job for an insurance company with a horrid boss who had often been the subject of bitchy conversations between Sarah, Philip and I. But in this new world Philip was in his element, being the leader he should have always been. I imagined that to most he was fairly impressive to look at; tall, dark and handsome as he was charming, well-spoken and wise. He was a formidable combination of brawn and brain. Several others had joined up with us, our vehicles forming a steady convoy as we drove along the roads, looking for food, weapons and places to camp.  
I was in charge of looking out for Penny and cooking our predominantly tasteless meals and those tasks suited me well enough; pitching tents and hunting weren't really my style. Penny and I spent most of our time reading to one another or playing cards and car games while we sat on the back seat of the bulky, black BMW. Sometimes Philip joined in, but more often than not he sat silent and brooding, knuckles white on the steering wheel as he scoured the land ahead carefully for places our group could spend a night or two. We were slowly heading towards Atlanta; the roads were quite often loaded with abandoned cars so the going was tough, but we were making progress.

* * *

On the fifth night, I had been keeping count as the days were quickly blurring into one another, we found a generously sized camping area just off the main road. It housed a few wooden picnic tables and chairs and even a toilet block, which was a Godsend after days of darting off into the bush whenever nature called.  
Philip signaled our group to pull over and soon everyone was gathered in the clearing, our cars parked close to the road's edge to ensure a speedy getaway if need be.  
As well as myself, Philip and Penny there was a Hispanic looking man who had introduced himself as Martinez, his wife and two young boys who looked to be about 5 or 6. He had struck up a firm friendship with Philip already and gladly joined our ragtag group. There was also a red haired man who had been traveling solo until we had picked him up a day back. He hadn't really said anything to me yet, except to announce his name, "John". He was continuously casting me long, sideways glances that made me feel very uncomfortable. The final members of our party were a brother and sister, Jamie and Tillie, from out of state, who had flown to Georgia a week prior to the first reported cases of the fever. They had kept to themselves so far, but seemed nice enough. Everyone had made the assumption that I was Philip's daughter and so far we hadn't bothered to correct them. As Philip had pointed out, it was safer to err on the side of caution, as his daughter I was offered a certain amount of protection as long as he continued to establish himself as leader.  
"Martinez", he spoke now, "You and your family can set up over here, Jamie you'll be on first watch. We need to get these tents up quickly, the light is failing fast. Lily, can you and Penny start dinner?"  
I nodded in affirmation and everyone hurriedly attended to their jobs, soon the tents were pitched and a fire was crackling softly. Tinned tomatoes and mushrooms were frying in the pan that was positioned carefully over the flames.  
It had grown dark quickly and now Tillie and Martinez were both standing on watch, one on either end of the camp. I felt safe knowing that the perimeter was secured and after dishing up everyone's meals with Penny's help, decided to head to the toilet block to freshen up.  
My torch light flickered over the leaf litter on the ground as I jogged the distance between the campfire and the small, shack-like building. It was a small block of toilet stalls, only one sink with a dusty mirror over the top of it and an overflowing waste paper basket underneath. My footsteps echoed within the concrete confines, but it was another noise that caught my attention; a low moaning coming from the last stall.  
"Hello?" I cautiously asked while wondering why we hadn't thought to check to toilet block when we had first arrived. Anyone, or _anything, _could be in here.  
The moaning deepened and I stepped back quietly. After the encounter with Mr Jones I couldn't take any chances.  
"Lily!" A voice hissed from behind me. I quietened Tillie with a raise of my hand and pointed into the little building.  
"Tillie, I think there is something in there! What do we do?"  
I heard the toilet door swing open and shuffling footsteps dragging their way across the concrete.  
"Shit!" Tillie all but yelled in my ear at the sight of the two Biters illuminated in my torchlight. These two were not in good shape. Parts of their limbs had been gnawed down to the bone and now that they were closer, the stench coming from them was sickening. They weren't able to move as fast as me, but I remained rooted to one spot, frozen in fear. I willed myself to do anything, to pull away from them and run back to the camp fire and the safety of our group, but I just couldn't run.  
"Help! Philip, Jamie! We have Biters here!" Tillie's voice ripped through the night and shook me from my petrified state. I practically collided with her as I pushed away from the door and propelled myself backwards, my heart beating hard in my chest as pure adrenaline raced through my body. Philip and John were the first to reach us, their eyes wide with panic, both pointing their guns toward the Biters who were now standing outside with us, visible in the mix of torch and moonlight. They had once been a man and woman, both about average height and simply dressed in jeans, flannel shirts, now torn and bloody, and hiking boots. They had probably been camping out here, just like we were now.  
"Wait!" Philip stilled John's action to take a shot at the nearest undead, "We can't shoot them. There might be more around, we don't want to attract them!"  
I was still backing toward the campfire when I saw the male Biter take down Tillie. She too had been aiming her pistol at the pair, but had hesitated upon hearing Philip's orders and had failed to move to a safe distance. I think at this stage we were all underestimating the threat these creatures posed, perhaps we were still seeing them as humans, but after seeing that Biter maul Tillie's exposed forearm like a dog gnaws a bone I knew I would never doubt their ferocity again. He had lunged with a growl, closing the distance between them much faster than I thought possible.  
Only a few seconds had passed from when Tillie had first called out for help to when she had first gotten bitten, but that was all it took.  
"No!" Jamie yelled, his heavy footfalls pounding on the dirt ground as he raced to us, "Tillie!"  
Philip swung his arm out, knocking the grief struck man back,  
"Jamie, don't! I'll take care of it." Tillie's shrieks of pain were filling the campsite and I could see Martinez, his family and Penny standing by the fire, unsure of what to do, like they were stuck between flight and fight, and the fear was evident on their faces.  
Philip strode forward and pulled the axe he had previously used to put down Mr Jones from his belt and quickly hacked into the neck of the nearest Biter who was also making a dash for Tillie, almost enraged by the sight and smell of blood. The Biter fell to the ground, but kept twitching and groaning, struggling to rise on decomposing legs. John made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat and grabbing a large pocketknife from his pocket stabbed the woman through the temple, her noises quickly ceasing.  
"You gotta aim for the head," John observed.  
Philip nodded and swung his axe into the Biter who was still enjoying the taste of Tillie's flesh. The axe cracked through the male's skull and he dropped like a sack of potatoes.  
Philip gently nudged Tillie to the ground and helped a shaking Jamie sit her against the wall of the toilet block. The colour had completely drained from her face and her screams of anguish had turned into soft whimpers as she stared down at her mutilated forearm.  
"Oh God," I moaned, falling to my knees and trying to calm my churning stomach.  
I couldn't hear what Philip was whispering to Jamie who, despite his shock, was nodding solemnly, but I could see the tears starting to roll down his face.  
"I'm sorry Till, I can't let you become one of them."  
Tillie bit her lip and started to sob softly. Philip met John's eyes and something unsaid passed between them.  
"You do what you have to do Jamie, I think we are safe for now," Philip comforted the distressed man.  
Tillie and Jamie were curled up against the concrete wall, foreheads pressed together and Jamie's arms were wrapped around his sister as her blood soaked through his shirt. All of a sudden I felt as though I was trespassing on an incredibly private moment and scrambled to my feet, moving towards Philip so he could sling his arm across my shoulders and lead me back to the camp fire, followed closely by John who was shaking his head in despair at the ruin we left in our wake.

* * *

A gunshot rang out and everyone around the blazing fire stilled before Penny ran to her father's arms.  
Not a minute later a second shot pierced the night air and Martinez groaned, squeezing his eyes shut and drawing his children closer to him,  
"He didn't…?"  
John gripped his gun tighter and turned heel, back to where we had come from. He returned quickly, his face pale and drawn,  
"He did. 'Couldn't face this world without her."  
"Lily, Louisa," Philip spoke, addressing me and Martinez's wife, "I want you to get the children into bed. We need to take care of this tonight, get some rest and leave as early as possible. We'll take turns keeping watch tonight." His voice was strained and his eyes filled with an emotion I couldn't name. Leaning over I brushed Penny's soft hair with my fingertips,  
"Come on sweetheart, we'll sleep in the same bed tonight." I was trying to stay strong, but I knew I certainly wouldn't be sleeping, not after what we had just witnessed. I knew the men intended to dispose of the four bodies and I didn't want to think about what method they were planning to use.  
It was going to be a long night.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: **I originally wrote this chapter from Daryl's POV, and it featured zero interaction with Lily, just made references to her. And once I was finished I decided I hated it and so rewrote it completely. Much happier with this version (Lily's POV as normal). It's mostly dialogue and fluff, but it covers a lot of necessary stuff and gives more insight into her character. Let me know what you think, I love to read your reviews :)  
Thanks Calcifer179, best beta out! Check out his stuff, it's pretty darn awesome.

**7.**

Awakening the next day I am suddenly aware of two things; first of all, every part of my body feels bruised, it's been a long time since I have slept on the ground and clearly my body isn't acclimatised to it anymore. Secondly the light shining through the plastic-like material of my tent is strong and bright, meaning I have slept late and most likely missed breakfast. My stomach grumbles in affirmation and ignoring my hunger pains and overall stiffness, I set about straightening up my sleeping space and preparing my morning routine. I slip out of my pyjama shorts and t-shirt and into tight fitting black leggings and a plain sports bra, quickly brush my hair and pull it back into a high ponytail and take a few sips from the water bottle that is sitting beside my sleeping bag.  
Grabbing my yoga mat, I step outside, shielding my eyes from the already blazing sun. It's going to be another lovely day in Paradise.  
I start with a few basic warm up stretches and poses, tentatively putting pressure on my injured palms. I had done the best I could to bandage them the night before, but hadn't been able to find scissors to cut the cloths into strips of suitable lengths, so had been forced to wrap the remainder half way up my arms. I must have looked a little like someone in the process of mummification, with the white bandages swaddled over my hands and forearms. They feel a little tender, but bearable and I pull my body up into a practiced handstand, feeling my muscles tighten and strain with effort.  
Everyone is thin during the zombie apocalypse, and I had always been slender, but despite being skinnier than ever, I had managed to maintain a reasonable amount of muscle tone through daily yoga and took pride in my core body strength and flexibility. The end of the world is no reason to let yourself go.  
I flip back, landing lightly on the balls of my feet and suddenly I get the feeling I am being watched. Pausing to look around me, I only see a few Woodbury folk going about their daily business, none of whom are paying any attention to me. Obviously, there are also a few Biters nearby, but we are separated by two high fences and several yards of overgrown grass.  
Ignoring it, I finish off my yoga session and before doing my cool down stretches; decide a little tumbling is in order. The grass feels cool underneath my feet and fingers as I cartwheel twice and then finish with a basic front aerial, feeling exhilarated as I am briefly airborne. It's a little shaky, but I manage to stick the landing and can't hold back a loud giggle, amazed at how my muscles still remember what to do after all this time.

* * *

A holler echoes across the grounds to me and I jump at the sudden disturbance. Daryl and Rick are approaching me at a slow jog and I cross my arms over my exposed stomach, wishing that I was dressed in something less revealing.  
"Wow Lily, that was incredible!" Rick praises, now only a few paces from me. Daryl stands behind him, looking me over shamelessly and I blush furiously at the memory of my performance last night. Great, so first I have wept in front of him and now I am standing here practically topless, bet he thinks really highly of you right now.  
"Seriously, where did you learn to do that?" asks Rick, obviously impressed by my gymnastics.  
"I'm, well I guess I _was_ a cheerleader at University of Alabama. And I did dance and stuff before then. Guess it's all pretty much a dead art form now," I joke, receiving a laugh from Rick and a slight smile from Daryl, which surprises me.  
"May come in handy one day," the sheriff says, still chuckling, "But I'm afraid we have some more serious matters to discuss."  
"Yeah I figured you weren't just coming down here for the show," my attempt at humour lamely masking my discomfort.  
"Unfortunately not. The sooner we get talking and you tell us all you know the better. It'll have to wait until later today though; we have a cell block to clear out first. Speaking of, you think you're up for it? You seemed to be able to put your weight on your hands okay, think you can still hold a gun?"  
Rick stares pointedly at my bandaged limbs and it takes me a few seconds to process his questions.  
"Wait…you want me to help you take out some Biters in another cell block?"  
"Is that a problem?" Daryl asks, speaking for the first time and noticeably gripping his crossbow a fraction tighter.  
"Uh…Hell yeah that's a problem. Listen guys, I don't know what you've been told about me, but I'm not a fighter. I'm a virgin." There is an awkward pause before I register the implications of what I have just said. "No, not like that," I blush again, "I mean…I haven't ever killed a Biter before."  
Rick stands still for a moment, before taking a step closer to me, a strange look twisting his handsome features;  
"How is that possible?"  
I shrug, "Just hasn't come up yet. I mean, we were on the road before Woodbury, obviously, but there was always someone there to protect me. Even if I wanted to help you out in this particular way, Rick, I simply wouldn't know how. I'd just slow you down."  
Daryl chokes out a laugh and rolls his blue eyes skywards.  
"Well ain't that fuckin' typical. You really are useless huh?"  
"…In this respect? Yeah, pretty much," I raise my hands apologetically and turn back to Rick, "I'm sorry, really I am."  
"If you're going to stick around here you will have to learn how to fight, but that's a problem for another day. Sounds like The Governor really did shelter you from all this, didn't he?" Rick's tone is almost sympathetic and I find myself feeling gratitude toward him.  
I nod dumbly.  
"Listen, if you both don't mind I'm going to get started with my day. I'll help out in any way I can…just not that particular way. And if you need to…interrogate me later, well that's fine too. Not that I have much information for you."  
"Just tell us what you can, anything is helpful," Rick touches my naked shoulder briefly before pivoting and returning back to the prison, signalling a figure that appears to be Glenn to reopen the inner gate for him.  
Daryl has lingered and is glaring at me hotly, not even attempting to disguise his emotions.  
"You want to say something Dixon? Because I'd really like to get some clothes on and go find my friends."  
My comment seems to have drawn attention to my body and he stares at my hips and stomach for a moment, a small flush tracing its way across his cheeks.  
"Did you know Merle well?"  
His question is totally out the blue and I gape at him briefly before choosing my words carefully.  
"Well he was in our group from almost the start of this. We found him passed out in a van on the side of the highway, his wound was starting to get infected and he wasn't doing too good. But we fixed him up and he stayed with us. We were only just establishing Woodbury at that point, hadn't even built the walls yet. I bet you can guess what Merle thought of me…and how he treated me, but yeah. We knew each other pretty well. Michonne mentioned it was Philip who killed him; let him turn into a Biter. I'm sorry about that, I may not have liked the guy, but I would never have wished that on him."  
Daryl processes my words quietly, chewing his thumb absentmindedly.  
"Walkers," he grunts after a moment.  
"What?"  
"We call them Walkers here. Not Biters."  
"That's what you're taking from everything I just said?" I smile, slightly amused.  
He shrugs,  
"Ya seem pretty desperate to fit in, sucking up to Rick and playing nice with the locals. Thought ya might like to know the lingo 'round here."  
"I'm not 'desperate to fit in'," I gasp, "To be honest, most of you lot have treated me much better than I ever expected."  
"'Guessing that 'lot' don't include me."  
"I understand your hostility. You have no reason to like or trust me. Not to mention I haven't really maintained my composure around you," I say, referring to the confrontation the night before and wincing at the memory of my humiliation.  
"Didn't really shock me Princess, knew ya weren't the strong, silent type," there is a trace of humour in his voice and I smile beguilingly.  
"Not like you," the flirtation in my voice surprising me and apparently Daryl just as much as he stands slack jawed, unsure of what to say in response. He clears his throat and looks hesitantly back to the collection of buildings behind us.  
"I've got work to do. Catch ya around." He is retreating before I can say goodbye and I assume that my crack at forming a connection with him has failed and merely created more animosity between us.  
Sighing heavily and pushing all thoughts of a certain redneck aside, I wrap up my yoga mat and chuck it back into my tent, grabbing a singlet from the top of one of my open bags and sliding it over my head. Sports bras are ideal for exercise, but probably not so appropriate for day to day wear. I pull my socks and boots on, which look like genuine motorcycle boots, but are actually designer and cost an arm and a leg. Still, they are somewhat sensible for this new life and I am pleased I bought them before everything happened. I doubt my wedges or ballet flats would have gotten me this far.  
Part of me wants to spend all day laying in my tent and pretending none of this has happened. I was up all night thinking about what Michonne had said. My poor, sweet Penny hadn't been gunned down and laid to rest peacefully. She had come back…returned as a Biter to be kept hidden away by Philip. How had he managed to keep all of this from me? Why would he even bother? He knew better than anyone that Biters were as far from human as possible, less than animals. Keeping her chained up was just…sick. The thought actually makes me feel nauseous and more than ever I was aware that the Philip I had known and loved is really gone.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Woah this turned into quite a long chapter! I may cried a little bit as I was writing it, I'm such a big softie and I hate killing off characters, but obviously it needed to be done :(  
We're so close to their arrival at Woodbury and finding Merle! I'm excited to write him, he was my favourite for sure. Anyway, hope you enjoy it lovelies! Reviews, follows and favourites are so appreciated. Thank you SO much to my regular reviewers and guests, you're all awesome :)  
Thanks to Calcifer179, best beta/writer ever!**

**8.**

About a week had passed since we had lost Jamie and Tillie; it was hard to say the exact number of days as the group had already given up keeping track of them. We were still constantly on the move, looking for the perfect place to bunker down and start our lives over. A Utopia in the apocalypse, it seemed like an impossible dream.  
Philip, John and Martinez were getting better at defending our group every day, learning more efficient ways to kill the Biters, as we called them. We saw less signs of civilisation and survival the further we travelled and even more undead seemed to be appearing by the hour. It was not an easy existence, but the men protected us well and so far we had all managed to remain safe.  
It had been days since we had last come across fellow survivors, and I was starting to become more and more uneasy, worried that perhaps we were the last ones left. There had been several more confrontations with Biters, however, the latest having occurred that same morning as we were packing up our camp and getting ready to head off again.  
It had appeared suddenly out of the trees, the screams of Martinez's boys, Javier and Rafael alerting everyone to the danger. The matter had been handled quickly by John, who had taken the Biter down with one sure slice of his knife, and Philip had bundled Penny and I into our car before helping the men disassemble the remaining tents.

* * *

That had been hours ago and we were all still fairly shaken, it actually felt good to be on the road once more. While we were driving we couldn't be attacked.  
As per usual, I was sitting in the back of the BMW with Penny, who was dozing peacefully with her head resting against my shoulder.  
I absentmindedly stroked her dark blonde hair and watched Philip as he drove us silently down the never-ending highway, always on the lookout for our next camping spot.  
John was sitting in the front passenger seat, to conserve on fuel our group had started travelling in just two cars, one for Martinez and his family, one for the Blakes, John and I. It was crowded with all the gear and bags we had to transport, but despite not enjoying hours spent in the cramped car I wasn't about to complain. I was just thankful to be alive. Thankful that Philip was looking after us, leading us.  
John turned back to observe Penny and I and grinned slyly, baring crooked teeth. Everything about him set me on edge and although he had proven himself a valuable member of the group on more than one occasion I still couldn't bring myself to trust or even like him.  
"John, check the map for me. I remember seeing a road around here somewhere that leads to a little town, maybe we can find shelter there," Philip spoke, not taking his eyes off the road. John fumbled around in the front of the vehicle and produced the crumpled map, flattening it on the dash in front of him and tracing a path across it with his finger.  
"Here," he said, poking the paper firmly, "You'll need to turn off in a few hundred metres."  
Philip nodded in response and John pushed the map aside, before swivelling in his seat to look at me again.  
"So, Lily. What did you used to do before all this started?" Every few days he attempted to engage me in conversation, but I rarely took the bait, preferring to answer in short, sharp sentences.  
"I was in college."  
"Oh yeah, that's right. What was it you were studying again? Business?"  
"Yep," I replied, popping the 'p', "Sorry John, I'm really tired…"  
"Of course, you get your rest." There was nothing about his tone or words that worried me, but the way his eyes raked over my body, lingering on my breasts, it made me feel more than a little uneasy. I had had men stare at me daily from as soon as I stopped looking like a girl and started looking like a woman, and usually it was just something I brushed off. But there was something other than normal lust that lingered in John's grey eyes, he looked _hungry_.  
Letting my head fall back, I closed my eyes, not in an attempt to sleep, but simply to avoid any further talking with John. The men were quiet for several minutes before I heard them pick up a hushed conversation;  
"What happened this morning…it was too close. We need to find a Safe Zone and fast."  
"I don't think there are any more Safe Zones," Philip whispered, not wanting to disturb myself or Penny.  
"What do you think we should do?" John's voice held a note of panic.  
"We need to _make _a Safe Zone, between the lot of us I know we can do it. We can't keep going like this. It's only a matter of time before we lose more people…"  
The honking of a horn interrupted their talk and I pretended to awaken, watching Philip check his rear view mirror and sighing.  
"Martinez has pulled over," he said as explanation and put the car in reverse, backing up the road to where the Camry was parked.  
Martinez slid out of the driver's seat when he saw us approach, raising his hand in greeting. John rolled down his window so the men could communicate,  
"The boys and Isabella have to relieve themselves," he said, gesturing to his family who were filing out of the car and walking slowly into the woods.  
I smiled, placing my hand on Philip's shoulder and leaning forward,  
"I might get out and stretch my legs."  
"Be careful," he warned, half turning around so he could make eye contact with me.  
"I'll go with her," John offered, eagerly. I was shaking my head before he had finished speaking,  
"That really isn't necessary."  
"Probably a good idea Lil, I don't want anyone wandering off alone." I glared at Philip, before nodding my consent. Next to me, Penny stirred, but didn't wake as I exited the vehicle. That kid could sleep through anything.  
Smiling at Martinez as I passed by where he was leaning against his car, I made a mental note to get to know him and his family better. They seemed like such good people, his wife so warm and gentle and his twins were two of the most well behaved and loving little boys I had ever met.  
John quickened his pace to catch up to me so that we were walking down the road side by side, only an arm's length apart. I snuck a sideways glance at him, watching his strong arms grip his long knife tightly. His hair was a deep red, almost burgundy and his jawline was strong and covered in the beginnings of a dark beard. He was attractive, very attractive in fact and exactly 'my type' as I tended to go for older guys with facial hair and muscular builds.  
Noticing me observing him as we walked, John turned to face me, a wide smile splitting his face. I stopped moving forward when he did, but took a step back and eyed him warily, realising that the rest of our group had now disappeared from sight over a slight rise in the road.  
"Guess we should head back now," I stammered, suddenly aware of how close the man was getting to me as he inched forward step by step.  
"You know you're the most beautiful woman I have ever seen Lily." John's words were right, but his tone was off, he sounded almost threatening as he took a final step and now stood so our bodies were touching lightly.  
"Uh…thank you John. I always appreciate a compliment," I raised my hand and placed my palm firmly against his broad chest, applying pressure in the hope that he would take the hint to back off.  
Instead he grasped my hand in his much larger one and slid his knife into it's sheath so that his other hand was free. He stroked the side of my face lightly and I froze at the contact.  
"Listen, I'm sorry if I have said something to give you the wrong impression, but I'm really not interested in you…that way."  
John grinned and I felt his pressure on my hand increase, pulling me closer as I tried to gently break his hold on me. His leer was menacing and I yelped as a fingernail scratched down my cheek, not hard enough to break the skin, but hard enough for me to know he meant business.  
A terrified shriek startled us both and I took the opportunity to jerk away from him, rubbing my sore wrist.  
"That came from the cars," John hissed, acting as if nothing had happened between us.  
I set off at a run, back the way we had come, knowing that John was right behind me and shivering at the thought of how viciously his dirty hands had held me.  
Having expected to see the group fighting of a Biter or two I was staggered when I mounted the rise and looked down at the vehicles to find them abandoned, even Penny was gone from the backseat of the black BMW.  
"Where are they?" I asked aloud, knowing the red-haired man beside me was just as clueless to the whereabouts of our group.  
A second yell sounded, coming from the trees to our right, near where Martinez's family had headed minutes earlier. Without a moment's hesitation we were both running again, pure adrenaline pumping as I tried not to think about the possibility that someone was in trouble.  
John and I entered the small clearing at the same time and I felt my eyes fill with tears immediately as I took in the horror scene before me.  
Philip stood, white as a ghost, one hand holding his axe, which was dripping with gore, and his other firmly wrapping around Penny who was curled up against his side, weeping quietly into his shirt. Martinez was kneeling, head on his chest and howling deeply, his pain raw and disturbing. He held his baseball bat limply, it's end splattered with black ooze, Biter blood.  
The crumpled bodies of his wife and children lay prone in front of him, slick with blood, and their skin now a sickly shade of grey. They were no longer whole, and I could see that between them they were missing vital organs, limbs, chunks of flesh…  
My stomach churned and I backed straight into John, for once not carrying about our close proximity. He laid a hand on my shoulder and I turned to see that he was just as shocked and saddened as I, a range of tortured emotions flicking across his face.  
Four Biter corpses lay nearby, piled haphazardly on top of one another as if they had been felled quickly and furiously, which I assumed to be the case. It would have taken Martinez, Penny and Philip only a minute or two to reach Isabella and the twins, but that was all the time that had been needed for them to be torn to shreds.  
The sound of distant moaning was now audible even over Martinez's cries and it quickly spurred Philip into action;  
"We need to go…Martinez I am so sorry, but we have to leave now."  
"I can't…I can't just leave them here," the broken man choked out between sobs, reaching out to take his wife's lifeless hand.  
"You don't have a choice; we'll all die if we stay here." Philip's voice was firm, yet sympathetic and he moved to Martinez's side, pulling him to his feet. "Lily, I need you to stay calm. Grab Penny and run back to the BMW. Martinez will travel with Penny and I, but you and John will take his car. We have to move now!"  
John pushed me forward forcefully, and I caught Penny as she ran into my outstretched arms, picking her up bridal style and starting a slow jog back to the vehicles. Penny was not a heavy girl, but I found myself starting to tire after just a few metres, my muscles burning under the unfamiliar strain on them. The noise of the Biters, a large group of them it seemed, was drawing closer and fear urged me forward as I made it back to the highway in record time.  
"Lily!" Penny cried, terror contorting her small face, as I shoved her into the backseat of our car.  
"Stay low sweetie, you'll be okay. I promise," I reassured, feeling like those words were almost becoming my catch phrase, "I'll be right back."  
I shut the door behind me and peered around the front of the BMW, sighing in relief as the men exited the woods, Martinez sandwiched between the much larger Philip and John who were both supporting him.  
"He's in shock," Philip explained, seeing my panic as I watched Martinez head lolling back. Between them, they managed to manoeuvre him into the front passenger seat and Philip touched my face tenderly, his eyes flickering to the Camry that was parked closer to the forest's edge.  
"We'll follow you," John spoke, sprinting to the driver's seat of the white car and leaning across to open the passenger side door for me. I reluctantly followed him, hopping inside and slamming the door just as the first of the Biter's appeared at the side of the road.  
"Move!" I screamed pointing wildly to the sizeable 'herd' started to stumble towards our cars, tripping over themselves in their haste.  
Philip and John took started the vehicles simultaneously and soon we were speeding forward, down the highway and away from danger.  
I leaned back in my seat, breathing hard and crying silently, ignoring John's worried looks as he drove, white knuckled. Exhaustion took me soon after.

* * *

When I woke, we had pulled up somewhere in the outskirts of a small town, our cars parked side by side in front of a boarded up house.  
"Where are we?" I asked, rubbing my eyes. Next to me John shrugged, exiting the Camry and joining Philip out the front of the weatherboard. I followed suite and looked back to see Martinez still sitting in the passenger seat of the BMW, his head pressed against the window and his expression unreadable.  
"Is Penny asleep?" I questioned Philip, standing beside the two men as the inspected the house in front of us carefully.  
"Yeah, didn't want to wake her until we knew it was safe to stay here. Looks alright, abandoned. I'll go check it out."  
"Let me go with you." Philip hesitated, before directing John to stand guard by the cars and moving closer to me as we walked up the little path and towards the building.  
"Don't come any closer!" A timid voice warned as we neared the front door, "I have a gun, I'm not afraid to use it!" Philip raised his hatchet and pulled the Beretta that John had given him from it's holster and held it up, presenting his weapons to the unseen stranger.  
"We don't mean any harm," he stated, "We're a small group. We have a woman, a child. Please…if you can offer us shelter for the night. Several members of our group were just killed…"  
There was a pause, before the front door swung open half way, and a round, bespectacled face poked through the gap, observing us more closely. The man appeared to be in his thirties, average looking and nonthreatening.  
Philip stared at him with pleading eyes,  
"You can help us, we won't hurt you…"  
The man seemed to be weighing his options, his eyes behind his glasses darting between us and John who was standing next to the cars, holding his knife by his side.  
"Okay," he agreed, stepping back and opening the door wider, "I'm going out on a limb here though."  
I sighed with relief and watched while Philip and John collected Penny and Martinez from the BMW along with a few of our bags. Our saviour held out his hand to me as I approached, and I took it thankfully.  
"Lily Foster," I introduced myself, giving his hand a squeeze.  
"Milton Mamet," a smile broke across his tired looking face, "I was beginning to think I was the only one left."


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: **Oh dear, guess things are getting a bit fluffy at the prison! I'll bring more action into chapter 11, I promise, and chapter 10 will be hectic as all my even numbered chapters are :)  
Thank you so much for everyone who is leaving lovely reviews, it seriously makes my day to read them. Welcome to all my new favourites and followers too, you guys are the greatest for giving this story a chance!  
The song in this chapter is 'The Phoenix' by Fallout Boy, seemed appropriate haha.  
If you have anything you would like to see happen in this story, any ideas for me, please feel free to message me. I love the input!  
Anyway, so R&R and enjoy xo

**9.**

It's been a few days since we arrived at the prison, maybe a week, and I still don't feel very settled here. The Woodburians moved into our cell block and most people got comfy straight away. Sasha offered to share a cell with me and so far it has been lovely sharing my space with another female for the first time since Penny died.  
I'm standing out in the courtyard with Beth, taking turns holding Judith who is a somewhat unsettled. She paws at me with tiny, clenched fists and alternates between cooing happily and crying softly, a noise which tugs at my heart.  
Rick walks past, and while he is deep in conversation with Tyreese, who walks beside him in taking long strides, he raises his head to smile encouragingly at me and touches his daughter's soft hair.  
I think back to the talk we had had the previous day and the memory makes me jittery.

* * *

_"I know you don't feel very comfortable with this Lily. I want you to take your time answering these questions, anything you can tell us will be beneficial," Rick began, giving my hand a gentle squeeze before turning to Hershel and Daryl, who flanked him on either side, both staring at me intently. I took a deep breath and nodded in understanding.  
"When did you first meet The Governor?"  
"Philip," I corrected. Rick gave me a thin smile,  
"Philip then…"  
"I was only a kid; my parents were friends with him and his wife. We all went to church together. And then I started babysitting Penny…"  
"What was he like back then?"  
"He was…" I paused for a moment and sighed, "He was the best."  
"When did you first notice a change in him?" Hershel asked, leaning towards me.  
"I don't really remember, it happened slowly I guess. He was leading our group from the start, he was a good leader. Confident. Everyone looked up to him."  
"How much did you know about us and this prison before you arrived here?" It was Rick who asked this question, and I got the impression straight away that my standing in the group would depend on the answer. His voice was serious, calm and weighted with unspoken thoughts.  
"Not much…He told me, he told all of us, that you were a threat. I knew about you all coming to Woodbury, just before everything happened with Merle and uh…" I trailed off, giving Daryl a pointed stare and Rick nodded for me to continue, "But I didn't know the full story until just before I arrived here and Sasha explained it all to me. I thought you all were the bad guys, I guess I just couldn't see it had been him all along…"_

* * *

I hadn't been able to tell them everything they had wanted to know, Rick had clearly been hoping I could hand him a map and say "This is where Philip will be," and a part of me hated to disappoint him. But after a while he had been satisfied with my answers and I had sat with my head bowed, trying to hold back tears and push aside the feelings that discussing Philip and Woodbury aroused within me.  
"Are you okay Lily?" Beth's voice is full of concern, and she carefully extracts Judith from my arms and starts rocking her back and forth slowly.  
"I'm fine, thanks," I smile, "Uh, do you mind if I head out for a bit? I want to go for a walk in the yard."  
"Of course, I've got her," she grins down at the small baby who is started to doze against her.  
Carl and Karen are on gate duty together, guarding the inner fence line and ensuring people can pass through freely and I smile at them both on my way out into the grassy area that lies at the front of the prison. I know we have regular patrols circling the fences, but I feel alone out in the open space and it is remarkably soothing after hours of being cooped up in dark, dank buildings.  
I thumb around in the pocket of my shorts for a moment and produce my small mp3 player and ear bud headphones. I have kept it charged through use of an adapter and USB cord that I have hooked up to various vehicles and not for the first time I am thankful I have thought to keep it with me all this time.  
_"Put on your war paint!  
You are a brick tied to me that's dragging me down  
Strike a match and I'll burn you to the ground  
We are the jack-o-lanterns in July  
Setting fire to the sky  
Here it comes, this rising tide  
So come on…"_  
The singer's voice fills my ears and I bop my head in time, unable to resist stretching my body out and running through a few basic ballet steps, giving them a contemporary flare. I pull my leg into an arabesque and bite my lower lip as my muscles tense in reaction to the unfamiliar move. I hyper extend my leg until I am balanced with one arm on the ground, my thigh twitching as I push it further. Bringing it back down in a sweeping arc, I plant my right foot firmly behind me;  
_"Hey young blood  
Doesn't it feel like our time is running out?  
I'm gonna change you like a remix  
Then I'll raise you like a phoenix  
Wearing our vintage misery  
No, I think it looked a little better on me  
I'm gonna change you like a remix  
Then I'll raise you like a phoenix…"  
_The rhythm gets the better of me and I run forward a few places before springing into the air in a grand jeté. I land a bit too heavily for my liking and curse silently when one of my ear buds falls out, quietening the music. I turn off the mp3 player, taking it from my pocket and place it next to my shoes and socks that I kick aside. The earth feels firm under my feet as I alternate between cartwheels, round offs and ballet moves, enjoying the relaxed sensation that is growing in my body as I lose myself in the movement.  
The noise of a throat being cleared sounds from behind me, and I don't have to turn around to know that is it Daryl standing there. Every time we run into one another he catches me at my most vulnerable, my most exposed and I feel myself turning the shade of red I seem to perpetually be wearing whenever he is around.  
I immediately stop mid-lunge and swivel on the balls of my feet to greet him, awkwardly pulling my singlet down so it covers my body and running my hand over my ponytail.  
"Oh…hi Daryl," I croak, seeing him staring right through me, his face contorted into an expression I cannot read.  
"Today is yer lucky day Princess, we're gonna bag ya yer first kill."  
I freeze on the spot and my lower lip quivers,  
"Nope! Not today…no way!"  
"Come on, ya can't keep going like this. Ya ain't in Kansas anymore, gotta learn how to defend yerself," he says, almost softly, as always holding his crossbow tightly in his rough looking hands.  
The thought of what those hands would feel like crosses my mind and I almost gasp aloud, shocked at the warmth those images are creating within me. I brush them aside and refocus;  
"Please don't take offense to this, but why you? Can't Sasha or someone take me?"  
Daryl shakes his head, his overgrown brown hair swishing against his face,  
"Rick wants me to show ya how. Ya can't talk yer way out of this, best just get it over with."  
I sit down on the grass and pull my socks and shoes on, shove the mp3 player and headphones back into my pocket and stand up again. The grazes on my palms have mended well, but I still feel a prickling tenderness in the fresh skin from time to time and wince as I push myself back off the ground. The hunter looks at me questioningly and I raise my hand to show him the pink skin;  
"Pushed it a little too hard I think." He approaches me and takes my hand in his much large one, rotating it and touching the healing skin gently. My breath quickens and I look up to meet his gaze, his blue eyes boring holes into my brown ones.  
"Yer fine," Daryl mutters, pushing my hand away and rolling his shoulders, "Come on, I ain't got all day."  
We walk silently to the second gate, nodding at the people standing guard there, and then out into the dirt path that separates the two outer fences. He pauses at a solitary Biter who has drifted close to the chain link fence, a woman, who stands only a bit taller than I do.  
"Good, this one will do," grunts Daryl, pulling a knife about the length of my forearm from a sheath that is pinned to his calf.  
"Now what ya gotta do is go straight through the eye socket until ya meet air at the back. Drive it in hard and twist it a little, gotta get the brain."  
His very words sicken me and my stomach clenches uncomfortably as the Biter spots us and approaches the fence at a shambling pace, groaning heavily and gnashing rotten teeth.  
"I…I don't think I can do it," I mumble, my eyes widening in fear at the sight of the zombie close up.  
"'Course ya can. Ya ain't a coward are ya?" Daryl jibes, handing the knife to me hilt first.  
"Yep, yeah I _definitely_ am." I gulp loudly and take the knife in my shaking hand, testing it's weight.  
"Look, I'll be right here. Ain't nothing gonna happen to ya," he touches me for a second time, tucking a strand of hair that has escaped my ponytail behind my ear and I shiver at the contact. For a moment he looks shocked at the affection he has just shown me, but he shakes it off wearily and steps aside, leaving nothing between me and the Biter except the metal of the fence.  
I inch forward, trying to avoid looking at the face of the thing I am about to kill, but her moans draw my head upwards and I find myself staring directly into a pair of lifeless, grey eyes, set deep in a decaying face. The knife falls from my hand, landing forcefully on the ground and I look up at Daryl, deeply ashamed;  
"I'm sorry, I just can't…," crossing my arms over my slight form I walk away, retreating back to the safety of the prison. Behind me, Daryl growls in frustration and I turn to watch him pick up the knife and coolly stab it through the head of the woman, doing the job I was unable to do.  
He stalks past me, not saying anything for the rest of our walk, but clearly able to sense my embarrassment and I watch through my peripherals as he shoots me thoughtful glances.  
"Ya know…" he starts as we reach the main gate that opens up into the courtyard, "It's okay, you'll get there..." I grin broadly at his assurance, getting that feeling of butterflies in my stomach,  
"Be better if I could just kill…uh…_Walkers _without any issue," I reply, shaking my head at how pathetic I must seem to everyone. Even most of the children here have taken down their fair share of undead, how come I can't?  
"Yeah, I've said it before, yer useless." I flinch at his words as they just reaffirm my own thoughts,  
"Yer an amazing dancer though." His compliment surprises me and he walks through the gate that Carl has pulled open before I can even think to thank him.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: **Thank you so much to my regular reviewers **Lady Wesker** and **VampWolf92**, I appreciate all your support and encouragement. Also a huge shout out to my bro and beta **Calcifer179**, his stuff is amazing if you want to check it out :)  
I loved writing this chapter because I got to introduce my favourite character! So excited to keep going with this story. I'm also writing another TWD fanfic called 'Ain't No Rest For The Wicked'. It's very different to this one, but a lot of fun.  
Anyway; so I LOVE seeing new followers, favourites and reviews, please let me know if you're enjoying the story, Lily etc and your thoughts on everything are always welcome xo  
**Disclaimer: **I don't own 'The Walking Dead' or any of it's characters

**10.**

I don't know where we would have been if Milton hadn't opened his doors to us. Martinez, whose first name I'd found out was Caesar, wasn't coping well at first, which given the circumstances was understandable. He had shut himself up in a room that our host had offered to him and hadn't left it except to use the bathroom, only Philip was able to convince him that he needed to eat.  
Penny and I had spent our days reading and enjoying the comforts that a house had to offer after weeks on the road camping in tents. Milton was very gracious and welcoming; it seemed he had been on his own since the very start of the outbreak. Philip and John, however, left the house almost every day, scouting further and further each time, in search of food and a larger, safer place to establish ourselves. A few times they returned with a survivor that had been found, usually someone holed up in a building somewhere, scared and alone. Within a week there were two more permanent members of our group, a man named Shumpert, which I frequently mispronounced, and a young girl called Haley. She was a strange addition to our group, my age almost exactly, but already hardened by this new world. I overheard her confessing to Philip that she had been forced to kill her brother and father when they had turned and the lethal looking bow that she carried had been her late parent's. I avoided her after that, not sure how to act around someone so different from myself. Shumpert was also an archer and John made the point that silent weapons would come in handy in terms of taking down lone Biters and hunting, the idea of eating anything caught in such a fashion was completely unappealing and I stuck to crackers and tins of sardines that we had previously hoarded.

* * *

Milton's house had been fortified more since our arrival, the windows boarded up and Philip had ensured that there was a guard on the front and back door at all times. Penny and I were the only ones not enlisted for this position as within a few days of depression Martinez had decided that he needed to keep himself busy and so regularly volunteered his services. He was currently guarding the back entrance, his baseball bat hanging by his side as he stood with his back against the wall, never taking his brown eyes off the door in front of him.  
I ventured down the hall towards him, becoming very aware that I had barely spoken a word to the man in days;  
"Everything clear?"  
He looked at me curiously for a moment, and peered out through the small pane of glass situated at the top of the door, although I had seen him glancing through it not a minute ago,  
"Yeah we're all good. They should be getting back soon." They was Shumpert and Philip, who had left on another scavenging hunt earlier that morning, armed with the hunter's bow, and Philip's pistol and tomahawk. I knew that they would be safe, but every day someone left I couldn't help but worry. It felt like we had lost far too many people already.  
"That little girl okay?" Caesar started, rubbing his short hair, "…Penny yeah?"  
"Um yeah…yeah she is just having a sleep. She doesn't like to be awake when her dad isn't here, think she stresses too much."  
"You don't seem so relaxed yourself," he observed, watching me closely as I chewed the side of my lip.  
"Not really…I don't like it that they have to leave. I know we need a better base, but it is no…scary out there."  
Martinez nodded, his wide mouth tightening in a grimace. I tentatively placed a hand on his large shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze and he smiled thinly at me, laying his own hand over the top of mine.  
"They're back," a loud voice interrupted and I looked up to seeing John standing at the end of the hall, a pained looking expression contorting his features at the sight of Martinez and myself standing in such close proximity to one another. I noticed the jealousy that lingered on his face and moved a fraction closer to the man I was comforting, unable to resist throwing a challenging glance toward John, whose frown deepened.  
"Great!" I smiled sweetly, gripping Caesar's shoulder more tightly before pulling away and stalking up the corridor and past John, whose eyes never left me. I turned back to the Latino man, who still stood awkwardly in the doorway, his eyes darting between John and I as if trying to figure things out for himself.  
I walked around the staircase that lay in the centre of the house, passing the kitchen on my left and headed to the front door, hearing John's footsteps on the hardwood floors as he followed me closely. Once we were out of sight of Martinez, who wouldn't leave his post until he had the okay from Philip, the red haired man gripped my upper arm, pulling me into the study that sat to the left of the hallway,  
"We need to talk," he hissed through gritted teeth, his firm grasp on my body not wavering as he leered over me.  
"There is nothing to talk about! You need to stop looking at me in the way you do, it's _not _okay. It makes me feel very…uncomfortable." It wasn't quite what I had planned on saying, but the strength of my tone surprised me and I attempted to wrench my arm free, wincing as his fingers tightened their grip. A small cough made both of us jump and Milton rose from his armchair, one finger placed between the pages of the book he had obviously just been reading. Neither of us had noticed him when we had first entered the study and now John sprang away from me, flashing the smaller man a glare that was weighted with an unspoken threat. I heard voices coming from outside the front door as John opened it and made a hasty exit, but couldn't move myself just yet and stood waiting for my racing heart to slow.  
"Are you…are you okay?" Milton asked, his eyes widening, slightly enlarged behind the lenses of his glasses.  
I rubbed my arm where John had grabbed me, feeling the skin already becoming tender with what I could only assume would soon be bruised flesh and breathed a gasp,  
"I'm fine. Thank you…He has been a bit…touchy lately," I murmured, referring not to my aggressor's mood, but his recent contact with me. Milton seemed to grasp the meaning of my words and offered me a small, comforting smile,  
"I'll keep an eye on him." I found his words almost laughable, the man looked almost as defenceless as I did, but I smiled in return. The sound of the front door being hurriedly pulled open interrupted our exchange, John rushing through it first, carrying a few bags of supplies. He was quickly followed by Shumpert and Philip, who were manoeuvring what looked like a body between them with some difficulty. Our leader met my shocked gaze with a strained grin as he groaned under the weight of the person I could now see was a male. The managed to drag him to the kitchen and lift him onto the table, Milton and I dogging their steps and berating them with questions, namely; "Who is that?"  
Penny lighted down the stairs, eager to greet her father and she paused upon viewing the gathering in the kitchen.  
"What's going on daddy?" She questioned, running to Philip and half hiding behind him.  
"Is he…is he bitten?" Our host stammered, looking the man over with fear evident in his eyes.  
"Not that we can see," Shumpert muttered, tossing his bow onto the bench and rifling through one of the bags John had dumped on the kitchen floor.  
"Everything okay?" Martinez called from down the hall, his voice alerting Haley who was now descending the staircase, her eyebrow raised in curiousity.  
Philip gave his daughter a warm hug, before kneeling in front of her so that they were positioned face to face,  
"Sweetheart I want you to go back upstairs, Lily will go with you. We need to make sure this man is safe okay?" Penny and I both nodded in understanding, but I faulted as I went to move toward her and saw the man lying unconscious on the table top from all angles. He was large, not overweight, but thickly built, coils of muscle etching their way across his upper body. His clothes were covered in a mixture of dust and drying blood and his face and head were covered in dirt and blisters, most likely from the sunburn that seemed to redden all of his visible skin.  
But it was when my eyes drifted down his torso and arms that I gasped;  
"Oh my God, what happened to his hand?!"

* * *

Penny sat on the makeshift bed we had set up, pulling a small thread that dangled from one of the blankets. We heard a steady hum of activity coming from downstairs since we had left the kitchen, and the occasional raised voice that's words weren't discernible.  
"Do you think everything is okay?" She raised her pretty face to meet me and her forehead creased in worry. I thought for a moment about how unfair all of this was, a child should never have to go through this, seeing things that weren't even appropriate for adult eyes.  
"I hope so, your dad will figure it out."  
"Daddy is so brave," she smiled.  
"He certainly is," I nodded curtly, throwing an arm over her shoulders and hugging her. The bedroom door opened slowly and Martinez stepped in. I took in the fresh blood stains on his clothes and blanched, not really wanting to enquire as to how they had appeared on him.  
"It's alright for you to come down now," he said, raising a hand to Penny as she stood up, "Not you honey. I'm going to stay up here with you for a while. Your dad mentioned you have some toys with you, can I see them?"  
I grinned at the thought of him playing with dolls with the little girl who was excitedly searching through her bag, but found myself tearing up at the memory of his own children lying bloody on the forest floor. I pressed the backs of my hands to my eyes, turning away from the odd couple behind me as I did so.  
"They're in the lounge room," Caesar muttered, speaking directly to me and I took his hint and left the room, before walking carefully down the stairs. Haley was standing guard at the front door and barely acknowledged my presence which I was somewhat thankful for, our few conversations had been stilted and uncomfortable. I headed down the hallway, glancing into every room in my search for Philip, curious as to where the wounded stranger would now be. Milton's house was surprisingly large despite having only housed one individual before our group's arrival; he had explained that it was inherited from his parents, who had passed many years ago. John bumped into me, almost literally, and the tall man's stance was a little stooped in what I assumed was exhaustion as he loomed in the corridor before me. I stepped around him agilely before he had time to react, avoiding his gaze and continued forward, arriving at the door to the lounge that was half closed.  
It made a soft groaning noise as I opened it all the way and stepped into the darkened room, noticing Philip sitting on a chair, his arms folded across his chest before I saw the figure that was lying on the couch.  
"Well hey there little miss! Ain't you just the prettiest thing I've ever seen?" His voice had a deep, Southern drawl and couldn't help but note the odd sentence structure that spoke volumes about this man's character and upbringing. I'd never been one to judge someone by their background and limited experience with rednecks, but there was something in his tone that made me take a step closer to Philip who had risen from his chair.  
"Lily this is Merle," he said, placing a hand on the middle of my back and gesturing to the man on the coach, who flashed a grin at me as I cautiously said "Hello."  
His arm, or more specifically, his stump where his arm ended at his wrist, was now tightly bandaged and he held it against his chest supportively. The image of the torn flesh and open wound that lay underneath the gauze made me shiver involuntarily and Merle must have noticed because his grin widened and he lifted what remained of his limb, giving it a little shake in my direction.  
"What's the matter, sweetheart?" He chuckled, looking remarkably well for a person who had obviously been through something horrible, "Don't like what ya see? I promise ya, the rest of me is in perfect working order." He winked and laughed loudly, before nestling himself back on the couch cushions and looked my body up and down.  
"Merle…" Philip warned, "If you're going to be staying with us you need to be nice to Lily. As far as you're concerned she is my daughter okay?" Philip's warning surprised me, but I was relieved when the redneck nodded.  
"I've just been informed by our new friend here that there is another group out there, they may be dangerous to us," Philip moved his hand from my back to my shoulder, "From now on I want you and Penny to stay very close okay? Always with me or one of the other men, now more than ever we need to find somewhere safe to set ourselves up. This group forced Merle to cut off his own hand, we can't underestimate them."  
Merle nodded again;  
"Bastard cop left me chained to the roof. Don't even know if my own brother came back to look for me…" his voice trailed off and I heard a touch of resentment and what sounded like hurt in his words.  
"Of course, you know I'm not about to go wandering off," I reassured Philip, ignoring the newcomer's statement purely because I had no words to describe how much the thought of humans capable of such cruelty scared me, "I promise."


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: **Thank you to all my new followers and favourites. And to my lovely reviewers, you know who you are :D  
Big thanks, as always, to my beta **Calcifer179**!

Hope you enjoy this chapter, I might not update for a little while because I want to focus on my other story, but you readers may be able to persuade me to change my mind and churn out another chapter soon ;)  
I added an interesting relationship to the story in this chapter, I'm excited to explore this particular element now. Let me know what you think!  
Xo

**11.**

"Stop whinging and try again!" Daryl berates, picking the rejected knife off the ground and pushing it's hilt firmly into my grasp. I stare daggers at him, my brown eyes clashing with his blue, their colour only emphasised in the sunlight and stand my ground.  
"Nope, no way! We've already been through this. I _can't_ do it!"  
"Yes ya can!" The man insists, changing tactics fast enough to give me whiplash, "I believe in ya."  
Groaning internally, I step once more towards the body of the Walker that is lying before us. Rick and Daryl dragged her in earlier that morning after putting her down quickly. This is their idea of practice, if I can get past the idea of putting a blade or bullet into a corpse, maybe I can manage a the real thing, so to speak. The smell coming off of her skeletal and decomposing form stings my nostrils and causes my eyes to smart, especially when I take in her blank grey stare, her rotting skin…  
Taking a deep breath, I lean over her, replicating the knife hold Daryl showed me earlier and remembering the hunter's encouraging words plunge the blade deep into her eye socket. I am forced to kneel over her to ensure the weapon goes all the way through her brain and a wave of stench washes over me when her black blood boils to the surface. It sends me reeling, and I push back so that I am sitting a reasonable distance from the now twice taken down Walker.  
Daryl whoops in delight;  
"See I told ya! Ya finally did it…" He stops shorts when he sees the paleness of my skin and my slight shaking. I am torn between crying and vomiting as my body seems to go into a state of shock. Before this all happened I was someone incapable of even killing a bug, just the thought of being so violent towards something, someone, that was once human sickens me.  
"Lily, are you okay?" There is genuine concern in his voice, which seems to trigger my emotions even more and I stand roughly, unable to even open my mouth to speak.  
I gag suddenly and am surprised when Daryl walks to me and lightly touches my shoulder. I brush him off harshly and shoot him another glare;  
"I can't believe you made me do that! That was so disgusting!"  
He grins broadly, the first full smile I have ever seen from him and I can't help but let a small smile cross my features in return;  
"You're sick, you know that?"  
"I'm a survivor. Ya gotta learn to do the same Princess, ya don't got The Governor keeping ya safe anymore."  
"Yeah, don't I know it…"

* * *

For the first time in as long as I can remember I feel like I am actually having fun, in stark contrast to the morning's events. Maggie and Glenn laugh loudly and freely as I teach them the complicated steps to the paso doble that I am helping them choreograph, positioning their bodies and demonstrating the moves myself.  
"You're the matador and _she_ is the cape Glenn, you have to lead her! Come on, be a man!" This comment elicits a giggle from Maggie and a half-hearted scowl from her fiancé.  
"I'm beginning to regret asking for your help with this…" he mutters, allowing me to grab his hips and show him the proper movement, "You're like a drill sergeant!"  
"Trust me, you want your wedding dance to be amazing yes?"  
They both sigh and resume their starting poses and I provide the music beat by clapping my hands in time. Within a few moves we have all dissolved into fits of laughter again;  
"No, no! It's like this…" I twist my body, raising my oversized singlet a little so that they can see the roll of my hips and take three strong steps, extending my legs in an exaggerated fashion to emphasise the theatrical and passionate nature of the dance.  
"Woah, okay…That looks sexy!" Maggie grins.  
"Yeah why can't we look like that?" groans Glenn, rubbing his eyes. I flash a smile and conclude my demonstration with a small bow.  
"You guys will get it! No rushing it, I've been dancing since I could walk. You are doing really well, I promise. I need to get myself cleaned up; it's so hot out here!" They both nod in commiseration; despite the steady approach of fall the days are still warm under the Georgian afternoon sun and dancing in the courtyard hasn't helped my already elevated body temperature.  
I wave my hand in goodbye and make my way towards D block, smiling at a few people from Woodbury who are going about their daily tasks in the yard and throughout the prison. I have to admit; Rick is running a pretty tight ship around here. Bit by bit our combined groups have been fixing up our home, fortifying the fences and clearing out the remaining undead from the surrounding areas.  
Tyreese and Daryl are standing near the entrance to my cell block, overseeing the job of removing all the Walker corpses that still litter this part of the prison, and they are engaged in conversation.  
When I hear my name mentioned I slow my walk and duck behind a nearby building wall, watching their backs as they continue their discussion.  
"…Lily's pretty nice to look at isn't she?" Tyreese is saying, a touch of humour in his deep voice.  
"Yeah, that's about all she's good for," comes Daryl's growled reply and he rolls his shoulders.  
"She is a little…superficial. Sasha loves her though, thinks she is the best thing to happen to her since all this began. There must be something more there, Sash doesn't warm to people for no reason."  
"I don't think so. Beauty is only skin deep and all that. She's Walker bait." Ty gives a short laugh and turns back to observing the small group who are dragging bodies into the open one at a time. He points towards Carl and Bob, who are struggling under the weight of one particularly bloated corpse and moves to assist them.  
Tyreese's opinion doesn't shock me; he has always been nice, but distant and judgemental, making it very clear that he just sees me as a nuisance. And while Daryl's words weren't exactly a surprise after all our interactions, for some reason it hurt to hear him refer to me as "Walker bait".  
Without thinking I stalk passed the hunter, who is standing with his back facing me until he hears my approaching footfalls on the concrete ground. His expression changes from confusion to one of sadness when he realises I have overheard the previous conversation and I feel a strange sense of happiness that he at least has the decency to look ashamed.  
I make no attempt to walk around him and instead brush against him roughly, which hurts me more than it does him as I bang into his firm shoulder.  
"Lily!" Daryl calls, reaching out to grab my arm as I retreat quickly into the block D and rush up the steps and into the small cell that has become mine and Sasha's room. The bottom bunk is mine and I lie on the thin mattress, face down and resisting the urge to cry, which I know will be a childish reaction.  
I can't see Daryl approach, but I can hear him, despite his natural quietness. The cell block is unusually deserted, and his footsteps echo throughout the dark building.  
"Can I come in?" He asks from somewhere in the vicinity of the doorway.  
"No," I mumble into my pillow.  
He hesitates, before choosing to ignore my words and entering the cell anyway. I roll over slowly and sit up to glare at the redneck.  
"Ya heard me and Tyreese." It's not a question, just a statement of fact and I see no point in denying it so nod and frown a little harder. Daryl shakes his head, and stares down at his boots awkwardly, avoiding my harsh gaze.  
"Are you going to apologise or what? Because otherwise you can just leave right now." My voice quavers slightly and to mask my nerves I stand up so that there is only a small distance between us. I have never been good at confrontations and seem to be having a lot of them with Daryl, it reminds me of the interactions I had with his older brother, who was never good at playing nice with others.  
The younger Dixon shuffles his feet and glances up at me through the layers of his scruffy hair. His gaze is piercing and I freeze like a rabbit in headlights, caught in his blue stare.  
"I'm not good at apologising…"  
"Oh well that's interesting, because _I'm_ not good at forgiving arseholes who think it's okay to bitch about people behind their backs!"  
Daryl's lip twitches in a half smile,  
"That's some nice language there."  
"You called me Walker bait…what word would you use to describe someone who does that? You know, I tried really hard this morning Daryl…I didn't put that knife into that woman…that Walker, because I wanted to." I can't look at him anymore and move away slightly so I am almost facing the narrow bunk.  
His hand grazes my cheek gently, wiping away a tear I didn't notice had fallen from my eye and he grasps my chin, directing my face so that I am turned towards him once more. The contact is so intimidate that my breath catches in my throat and all I can hear is my heart beating too fast in my chest.  
"I'm sorry." Daryl's voice is sincere and husky. I'm standing closer to him than I ever have before and can see him more clearly than I ever have before. My eyes rake over the stubble that coats his jawline, the small mole that sits above his mouth and the fairness of his eyelashes. For a moment I think he is about to kiss me, when I see that he is inspecting my features with a look of longing in his eyes, and I realise that that thought excites me. However, he releases me all too quickly and steps away. A flash of anger runs through me at the thought of how familiar this situation is becoming, this back and forth that seems to constantly be happening between us.  
But I don't voice my feelings, just nod meekly in acceptance of his apology and watch the wings on his leather vest as he leaves the cell and walks away wordlessly.

* * *

I had stayed in my small cell all day, staring idly at the bottom of Sasha's vacant bunk above me. I am avoiding Daryl, and quite frankly, avoiding having to be outside in the autumn sun, the memory of my staged Walker take down still fresh in my mind. The last thing I want is for Rick or someone to coerce me into attempting a real kill so soon, I'm definitely not ready for that.  
"Hey girl!" Sasha's cheery voice stirs me somewhat, and I smile at her, happy to see her. Most of the time I feel like the young woman is the only one who genuinely enjoys my company or sees me as someone worthwhile.  
"Are you okay?" She asks, as she places her gun against the wall opposite our beds and sits down next to me, pushing my legs over a fraction so that she has more space.  
"You seem to be asking me that an awful lots lately," I sigh, crossing my hands behind my head.  
"You thinking about The Governor…or is it Martinez?" Her tone is almost mocking and I don't have to look at her to know there is a broad grin plastered on her face.  
"No!" I laugh, "I haven't thought about Caesar in a long time."  
"You don't miss him? Thought you guys were 'friends with benefits'?" She punches my shin lightly and giggles girlishly.  
I think about Martinez and the feelings we had developed for one another over the course of our time together. How he had turned to me for comfort after his family had been killed and how I had needed him to relieve some of the loneliness I eventually came to feel. His handsome Latino face flashes through my mind and I smile at a few choice memories, but realise quickly that I don't miss him, that what we had didn't merit any feelings of loss or sadness now that everything had changed.  
"Well…" I eventually answer Sasha, "You've got the 'benefits' part right!"  
She howls with laughter and I join in, enjoying the normalcy of typical girl talk, something that is rare these days.  
"Maybe you don't miss him because of a certain ruggedly handsome redneck hey?" She wiggles her eyebrows knowingly at me and I sit up so we are shoulder to shoulder on the narrow bunk.  
"Ha! Daryl hates me, so much as said so in a lovely conversation that he and your charming big brother were having before."  
"Ty and Daryl were talking about you?"  
"Yep, but behind my back of course. When did men start turning into gossiping old woman?"  
"I can talk to Tyreese if you like? Sort something out? You know that neither of them meant what they said honey, men can just be real dicks when they get together…"  
"They meant it Sash," I interject, "And they were right too…I'm not going to last long in this world. I am Walker bait."


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: A**s always a huge thank you to my beta, **Calcifer179**. Cheers bro! Also many thanks and hugs to all the people who have favourited, followed and reviewed this story so far. I am so happy people are reading and enjoying it :) I always reply directly to my reviews, so a big thanks to my guest reviewers who I of course can't contact. You all rock!  
Word of warning, this chapter is pretty dark and may have a few triggers for some people, but it's probably my favourite chapter so far and I really enjoyed writing it, especially the ending. Please let me know what you guys think, your reviews really encourage me to keep going!

**12.**

_"You need to tell him," Milton whispered, his eyes speaking volumes as they stared into my own.  
"I know."_  
John incessant attempts to create something between the two of us were becoming more and more aggressive. The previous night I had woken to find him watching me sleep, his dark figure silhouetted by a trickle of moonlight from the window behind him. He was getting too close for comfort, and had become obviously unhinged. The arrival of Merle, who often made crude remarks about my physical appearance when Philip wasn't around, hadn't helped anything and as the days dragged on the red-haired man became more and more possessive of me.  
A big part of me believed that it was just a passing obsession, that John was simply lonely and I had been the first woman available to him, but deep down I knew there was something more sinister at play. The way he looked at me made that clear enough.  
Mainly though, I just didn't want to worry Philip. He had more than enough on his plate right now, our group relied on him and he in turn relied on John for many things.  
Every day the men, other than Milton and Merle, who was still recovering, travelled the short distance to the nearby town of Woodbury and cleared it out, bit by bit. The town had been deserted, of the living at least, when they had first gone there for a basic scavenging trip, but Philip quickly saw the potential it had to become a permanent place of residence for our ragtag group. They had started building high walls to secure it, cleaning up the quaint little buildings one by one. The township contained generators, water and septic tanks, small gardens…it was everything we could ever want. We hadn't relocated yet, it was a big job moving everyone and our belongings, but more importantly, Philip didn't want to risk our lives unnecessarily. He needed to know our new home was going to be safe.  
Merle's back story had been revealed over the course of a few days, as had his nature, and he had instilled a deep fear within all of us of other survivor groups that were supposedly in the area. It was decided that we would only take in small groups or single individuals so as to avoid coming across people who had fallen victim to a primitive pack mentality, no one wanted anyone to threaten what we were working towards.  
It had become my job to tend to the gruff redneck, Penny was kept away from him and Haley avoided him like the plague, remarking that she had dealt with her fair share of arseholes and wanted nothing to do with him. Merle's comments made my uneasy, but he actually seemed fairly harmless, his desire to heal up fast and be able to aid Philip meant that he would look at me, but never touch. We were even forming an unlikely friendship of sorts, although he made it clear how little he thought of me, or perhaps that was his opinion of women in general.

* * *

"You're only good for one thing sweet cheeks, and I bet even a prude like you knows what that is."  
"I have no idea what you're talking about Merle," I muttered, faking innocence as I gently reapplied a bandage to his stump, avoiding looking too closely at the wound.  
"Ha ha! You can't fool me missy, everything about you screams sex. Bet you're a total cat in the sack!" He grinned, wincing slightly at the pressure of the gauze.  
"You're disgusting," I sighed, my words half-hearted. We'd been through this a dozen times and it was getting a little tired, my patience with the older man wearing thin.  
"Oh come on, that body's too good to not be pressed up against me. Come on, let Merle make all your troubles go away…"  
"You've got one good hand Merle; put it to use and go screw yourself." His howls of laughter followed me as I exited the lounge, stopping by the kitchen to put the rest of the medical supplies back in the large first aid kit.  
"Lily?" Penny's voice was small as she called my name. She stood in the hallway awkwardly, twisting a strand of her dark blonde hair between her fingers. The past couple of months had taken less of a toll on her appearance than anyone else, seeing as everyone was making sure she was well fed. The only real noticeable physical difference was her hair, which had grown a fair bit since we had first set out. She had, however, become much more serious, almost broken after everything we had seen. Philip was always trying to protect us from the harsh realities of this new life, but even he couldn't stop his daughter from growing up affected by it.  
"What's up baby girl?" I asked, leading her out of the kitchen towards the dining room at the front of the house, smiling at Martinez who was standing guard at the front door.  
"Milton was talking about taking Haley and me to the garden a few houses down. They have fruit trees there. Is that okay? Do you think dad would mind?" She sounded eager, but uncertain, expecting a quick rebuke to her request.  
I smiled at her fondly and gave her a firm hug;  
"If you stay close to the others then I'm sure it will be fine. Just don't be too long okay? You need to get back before dark." Penny nodded happily and skipped off to find Milton and Haley, who within minutes were calling out goodbyes and exiting through the back door, obviously intending to go through the fences and down the small path at the rear of the street as opposed to walking along the road.  
With Haley gone it meant it was my turn on guard duty, a job I found almost laughable in the sense that if a Biter tried to make its way through the back door I would be next to useless. But I stood there nonetheless, leaning against the wall and occasionally peeking through the small glass window to ensure that the yard was still clear, an act that involved me standing on my toes.  
It was during one of these moments when my back was to the hall that I heard a loud thwacking noise and a sharp pain spread across the back of my head. I hadn't noticed anyone approaching me and before I could do more than groan as my feet collapsed beneath me, a strong arm wrapped itself around my waist and the door in front of me opened quietly.  
All I saw was grass and damp earth beneath me as I was thrown forward, the throbbing in my skull absorbing most of my attention as the force of the ground rushing up winded me. I gasped for breath and touched the back of my head, feeling the warm wetness of fresh blood spreading through my hair. The door closed just as silently as it had opened and soft footsteps moved towards me, a pair of booted feet appearing to the right of my head. My eyes were unable to focus properly and the image faded, my vision clouded by blackness as I slipped in and out of consciousness.

* * *

When I awoke it took my eyes a while to adjust to the gloom around me. I had no way of knowing how long I had been passed out for, but I realised within a few minutes that I was lying down on a couch, my hands were bound behind me and something was covering my mouth. It felt sticky, like duct tape, and made it impossible for me to scream. Pain was still radiating through my skull, a migraine I knew I would feel for days, but it was the sheer terror I was experiencing that consumed most of my thoughts. I was in a room I had never seen before; it was mostly empty and darkened. I could only just see the outline of a table somewhere in front of me and the fabric of the couch I was lying on felt rough and dirty on my skin.  
A million questions ran through my mind; who had taken me from the house and where was I now? Had Martinez heard anything from down the hall? Were they others looking for me?  
A door at the other end of the room flew open and dull light filled my prison, which was revealed to be a messy room, the floor strewn with papers and rubbish.  
The silhouette of a tall, broad figure stood in the doorway, and as he stepped into the room I gasped from behind my gag. It was John. His normally auburn red hair was matted to his head and it looked almost black, as if it was wet. His face was streaked with dirt, it looked like he had been crying and tears had stained his face. The man's overall appearance was unnerving, but it was his eyes that scared me the most, they were open wide and the look of unadulterated lust and glee in them sent an unpleasant shiver down my spine.  
"I'm so glad you're awake now Lily," he spoke, his voice rough as he half closed the door behind him so a sliver of light still trickled through the gap.  
I thrashed against my restraints and attempted to yell, succeeding in only twisting my wrist harshly and making a low groaning noise. John laughed and moved towards me, placing one hand gently on my cheek and stroking my face while murmuring comforting sounds. I pulled away from him as best I could, pressing my back against the couch and he laughed again, almost manically.  
"I'm going to take the tape off now, no one will hear you scream except the Biters outside, and you wouldn't want _that _would you?" His tone was threatening and after a moment I nodded mutely. I hissed with pain as he ripped the tape off my mouth and screamed loudly before receiving a quick blow to the side of the head. The impact made me see stars and only intensified the pain that was still racking my brain from my earlier injury. Gasping in anguish, I felt his large hands grab me and pull me so I was sitting against him on the couch where he wrapped one arm around my shoulders and brushed his fingers through my bloody hair.  
John then ran a trail of rough kisses down the side of my head where he had just hit me and whispered in my ear;  
"You need to be quiet now okay? I don't want to have to gag you again, but I will if I have to."  
Hot tears trickled down my face as I nodded again, staring down at my lap and my dirty pants.  
"Look at me," my captor growled, wrenching my chin up and turning my head so I faced him.  
I glanced up and met his stare, his light eyes boring into mine.  
"What…what are you going to do to me?" My voice sounded broken and it was a struggle to form the words. His grin widened and all of sudden his intention became clear, a thought I had been avoiding forming in my mind.  
I screamed again and John pushed me back onto the couch so I was lying prone against it with my face buried in a cushion.  
"What did I just tell you slut?!" He yelled, pressing on my upper back, between my shoulder blades so I was unable to move and my cries remained muffled.  
"You've been begging for this for weeks! Flaunting yourself in front of me, making me want you. You can't just lead people on like that Lily, it's not…nice!" I felt the material of my leggings being tugged before they ripped and I twisted my body as best I could, his strong hand still holding me down.  
His other hand stroked the flesh of my thighs, occasionally scratching my skin cruelly or grabbing my legs so firmly that I felt bruises form instantly. I continued moving like a fish out of water, contorting my body in an attempt to pull away for his touch. My efforts seemed to spur him on as his fingers moved up and into my underwear, eliciting a low chuckle from him and a silenced scream from me.  
Everything seemed to happen at once as the room lit up again from the daylight streaming through the doorway and the sound of several yells and heavy pairs of boots entered through it. John's hands left my body and he pushed me away so that I fell to the ground next to the couch, yelping in pain at the sensation of my bruised skin hitting the floorboards.  
My vision was still bleary from the multiple blows to the head that I had sustained and I wasn't able to make out the faces of my saviours at first, only hear their rough voices;  
"Get the Hell away from her you fucking creep!" That was Philip, his tone clearly distressed. I saw the shape of John being pulled away from the couch, yanked by his clothes and shoved to his knees on the floor in the middle of the room.  
"What the fuck do ya think you're doing? We're going to make you pay for that!" I heard Merle yell and I saw his existing fist connect with John's face, sending the man sprawling and groaning in pain before he started spouting pleas of innocence. Gentle hands touched me and I shied away from them, realising that I had been quietly sobbing and had curled myself into the foetal position after landing on the floor.  
"It's okay Lil, you're okay," Martinez hushed, picking me up and carrying me bridal style from the room. I glanced past his bicep to see Philip, a tortured expression on his handsome face as he watched Merle, who seemed well recovered as he laid blow after blow onto John's already bleeding face. The battered man's eyes met mine across the room and he mouthed the words "I love you", blood dribbling down his chin. I think that sickened me more than anything else he had said or done, and I knew it would stick with me for a lifetime. A half-second later and the redneck landed another punch to his nose, which broke with an audible crack.  
Caesar held me tight against him and I breathed in his comforting scent, overwhelmed by the relief I felt at having being rescued. He carried me out of the house and towards Philip's black BMW, that I hadn't heard pull up. I got a reasonable look at the building that John had brought me to, and for some reason it shocked me that it was just an ordinary looking house, I had almost been expecting a torture chamber.  
Even outside we could hear John's pained screams and Caesar stared down at me with his warm brown eyes, searching mine for any signs of distress at the sound. He lowered me gingerly to the ground, but kept one muscular arm around my waist and I leant against him for support as he opened the back door of the vehicle and helped me inside.  
I reclined on the seat, breathing heavily, unable to stop the steady flow of tears as my body went into some kind of shock.  
"Here," he said kindly, removing his jacket, draping it over my naked legs and sitting next to me on the back seat. He hesitated in comforting me, and I understood his uncertainty, so moved myself towards him and buried my face in the warmth of his shirt, crying freely. His strong arms encircled me;  
"I'm so sorry Lily. I didn't even see him take you! It was only when Milton, Haley and Penny got back that we noticed you were gone. Merle tracked you guys here; he saw straight away that you'd been dragged through the door. I had no idea…I would never have let him take you…"  
"It's okay…it's okay…" I reassured, unable to say everything I wanted to before I blacked out again, the full reality of the situation hitting me.

* * *

This time when I woke up I was tucked into a comfortable bed, back in the familiarity and safety of Milton's house. Philip was perched at the foot of the bed and he turned to me when he heard my stirring;  
"How you doing sweetheart?" He asked, concerned as he stared at my face, a range of emotions flashing across his own.  
"About as awful as I look."  
"You always look beautiful," he smiled reaching over to squeeze my hand. I almost pulled away in reaction to his touch, but soon embraced the comfort, feeling reassured by his very presence.  
"This wasn't random, was it Lily? Milton told me that John was getting a bit close to you, that you didn't like it…"  
"Milton told you that? Today?" I pulled myself up so I was sitting against the headboard, wincing at the various aches and pains that filled my body.  
Philip shook his head and withdrew his hand from mine;  
"A little while ago now, when we first got here I guess. I've been keeping an eye on him; I thought that maybe Milton was exaggerating. Why didn't you come and talk to me?"  
"I…I didn't want to be a bother," I muttered. The irony of that statement after recent events was not lost on either of us, and we both cracked a smile.  
"What did you do to him?" I could guess the answer, but I needed to hear his reply. I needed to know that John wouldn't be able to hurt me again.  
The dark haired man stared at me grimly and rose to leave the room;  
"He won't be bothering you again Lil, I always protect the ones I love." I merely nodded in response, partially sickened by the thought of those I cared about being forced to take the life of another human and partially relieved that the crazed man was gone for good.  
"You rest now darling," Philip murmured and I lay back down in the bed, nestling in amongst the pillows.  
John's bloodied face was the last thing I saw when I closed my eyes and fell into a deep sleep.  
_"I love you."_


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N:** Oh my gosh, this chapter, it's so fluffy I'm gonna die! Seriously though, it's very cute and lighthearted, especially compared to the last chapter. I hope you all like it! Your reviews are so appreciated so _**please**_ let me know what you think, it means so much to hear you guys are enjoying it :)  
Thanks as always to my beta, **Calcifer179**, and thank you to my lovely readers and reviewers! You are all awesome!

**13.**

I have never been so humiliated in my entire life. Glancing around the room at the people who I know are aged between four and twelve I realise I stick out like a sore thumb and so cower at the back.  
"Today we're going to be talking about knives. How to use them, how to be safe with them and how they could save your life," Carol intones and the children lean in closer to get a better look at the box of weapons the woman as presented.  
"Lily," our instructor calls out, and all eyes turn to look at me, "You'll need to come over here to see properly." I groan inwardly and move away from the door and sit a little awkwardly amongst the group, painfully aware of the fact that I am the only adult being forced to attend this 'class'.  
Carol turns her attention back to the knives in front of her and visually demonstrates how to use them, jabbing at the air;  
"You need to penetrate soft tissue, a small knife like this isn't going to be able to go through bones."  
"So the throat or…" a young girl interjects. Carol raises her hand to cut her off;  
"When dealing with Walkers you always aim for the brain. Always."  
Sighing I shift uncomfortably. Daryl went through all this with me already, it has been drilled into me that the only truly vulnerable part of a Walker is it's brain. I wonder for the millionth time why Rick has insisted I receive more training, and why does it have to be training alongside others who are mostly more than ten years my junior.  
Carol offers me an apologetic smile and continues discussing the many uses of different knives and why they are such an invaluable tool; no ammo, simple to use, fast in close quarters, silent…  
Before too long we are being paired up to practice lunges and basic attacks on each other. Carol partners me with Eli, the only kid in the class who is roughly my size and we jokingly spar with the plastic knives we have been given, stabbing at each other futilely and giggling. The grey haired woman across the room shakes her head at us and we sober up quickly, practicing the moves we are supposed to as she goes back to supervising the youngest members of the class.  
"Why are they making you do this anyway?" The boy asks, diving at me with the knife.  
"Beats me buddy! It's pretty embarrassing to be honest…"  
"Nah you don't need to be embarrassed. You've gotta learn someway right?"  
I nod at his observation and continue with the exercise, willing it to go faster so I can get it over and done with. Carol passes us once, smiling at our efforts as we lunge and stab, repeating the motions she showed us earlier.  
It feels like hours have passed before she is satisfied with the progress everyone has made and dismisses the group with reassuring words and smiles. The children leave, excitedly discussing the knives and their use of the play ones, as if they have just been slaying dragons and I grin at their enthusiasm.  
"Can you stay and talk to me for a minute Lily?" The older woman asks as she packs up the box of weapons.  
"Uh sure, I guess. What's up?"  
"I just wanted to talk about how you are settling in…" Her smile is kind, but doesn't quite meet her light blue eyes and I sense there is something more she wants to discuss with me.  
"Yeah good, I think. I kinda feel caught between two worlds…" I trail off, unsure of how much I want to reveal to her about the way I have been feeling lately. She is one of the members of Rick's group I have interacted with the least and while there has never been any negativity between us I don't know where she stands on having me, and the other people from Woodbury, living at the prison.  
"I can understand that," she nods, "It has been a huge adjustment for everyone, but especially you."  
"I'm getting used to the change now, and I don't miss Philip as much…It kind of feels like everyone from Woodbury is really wary of me now though…Like I'm about to go crazy and pull some Governor moves on them."  
She laughs half-heartedly and shakes her head, obviously amused by the thought of me doing anything remotely Governor-esque.  
"Oh honey, we can all see that you aren't like that. It's not that I'm worried about anyway…" Carol pauses, steeling herself for what she had really kept me behind to talk about.  
"…It's Daryl."  
"Oh…" I stand shocked, "What do you mean?"  
"Daryl is someone I really care about Lily; he has done so much for every member of our group, especially me. I don't want to see him get hurt."  
"Carol I seriously have no idea what you are talking about."  
She eyes me coolly for a moment, as if she is trying to figure out whether my apparent naivety is genuine or not before smiling slightly;  
"It doesn't take a genius to see he likes you Lil."  
"Oh my God, you're crazy!" I laugh, "Daryl _definitely _doesn't like me! He was telling Ty just a few days ago that I'm useless and Walker bait. Seriously Carol, that man thinks I'm pretty much an idiot."  
Her smile widens and she places a hand on my shoulder;  
"Trust me sweetheart. I have never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you. He's already so protective of you, his eyes follow you constantly. Just promise me you'll be gentle with him. Daryl…Daryl is a very complicated man and he is badly broken. He can't take any more heartache."  
I nod, not really understanding, but becoming very uncomfortable with the turn the conversation has taken. Carol is acting as if I'm about to go and break the man's heart, an idea so ludicrous that it is laughable.  
"I can assure you that there is nothing between Daryl and me, but I would never hurt him Carol. Or anyone else here. I owe you all so much." She seems content with my response and pats my shoulder once before exiting the room, carrying the box of knives carefully.

* * *

I remain behind, thinking about our interaction and the things Carol hinted at. Sure, Daryl has touched me in a kind of gentle and caring way a couple of times, and I have caught him checking me out more than once. But that behaviour just seems typical of all men and certainly nothing to start jumping to conclusions over. On more than one occasion he has made my heart do that annoying fluttery thing that guys have the tendency to do to me, but I am sure that the heat between us is purely imagined on my part. I have never been someone who can commit to a relationship, my dad had always laughed at my inability to stay with any one man, saying that I just knew what I deserved and wouldn't settle for less. But the truth was I just plain sucked at holding onto guys; they came for my looks and when they realised that there wasn't much else there they would get bored and leave. I have never been the kind of girl a guy wants to hang out with, there had never been common ground between us and they had all soon realised that. Maybe I just wasn't good at picking them, maybe my terrible taste in men could be blamed for my dating track record, but whatever the reason I had never been more than a good lay to any man and I had gotten used to my role over the years. I was the kind of girl a guy would have as his mistress, not that the kind he would marry.  
Judging by all my interactions with Daryl it was safe to assume that if he was indeed interested in me then he was only interested in one thing, Hell, he'd said as much to Tyreese when they had been discussing me. And if that's all he liked me for then I wanted no part of it, I'd been down the road too many times, most recently with Caesar, and I wasn't about to have another bastard screw me then leave me.

* * *

As if he knew I'd been thinking about him the first person I see when I exit the small room, that had once been an office of some description, is Daryl. He is wearing his normal attire; sleeveless shirt and dirty jeans, apparently unperturbed by the slight chill in the air that has forced me to wear a cardigan for the first time in months. He's sitting on a bench outside the building, fiddling with a few of his arrows, his trusty crossbow by his feet. When he hears me approaching he looks up at me and the shadow of a smile creeps across his lips. This is about as happy as Daryl seems to get and I wonder for a moment if Carol's suspicions are true, before shrugging off the thought and walking towards the hunter.  
"Hey," he greets as I sit down next to him.  
"You've been waiting for me? Please don't tell me I have to go anywhere near a Walker today?!" I blanch at the thought and rest my hands on my thighs lightly.  
"Nah not today," Daryl mutters, returning to his arrows and ignoring my presence.  
"Whatcha doing?" I sing-song and poke him, resulting in him swatting my hand away lazily.  
"Just making sure I've got enough good ones, gotta go on a hunt sometime this week."  
"Oh gosh, by yourself?" He nods in response, looking up as if surprised by the concern in my voice. His eyes are so blue and I find myself wondering if he has noticed the colour of my eyes as well.  
"You're so brave. I don't even like walking across the yard by myself!"  
He smiles, a true smile this time;  
"Been hunting alone since I was only a kid, ain't nothing to it."  
"Things have changed since then though, that's got to be what, forty odd years ago?" I grin at him and wink, realising that I am flirting with him and not for the first time either. What the Hell is wrong with me? I was only just thinking that I need to distance myself from him, regardless of what feelings he may or may not have and here I am, moments later, acting like a schoolgirl!  
"Hey!" He growls, "I'm not that old!" I shrug and laugh, causing him to smile again, an expression that really changes his face.  
"Well this has been fun," I say, standing up and dusting off the back of my jeans.  
"You could come with me…"  
"What?" I turn back to face him, watching him play with a thread on his pants nervously.  
"When I go hunting…You could come."  
"Can you really see me tromping about those woods collecting squirrels Daryl?" I laugh, taken aback by his offer.  
"Well…no. But I feel bad, for what happened the other day…" He looks so uncomfortable and is struggling to meet my eye, continuing to stare down at his hands as if they are the ones he is engaged in conversation with. I sit back down next to him and place one hand on the middle of his back, an action that makes him shudder so I pull away quickly.  
"You already apologised for that, it's okay. And besides, taking me out hunting isn't really the way to make it up to me, I'm not really the outdoorsy type if you hadn't noticed."  
"Please princess, I've noticed. It's pretty clear that yer tan comes from a bottle."  
"Hey!" I admonish, my turn to be offended by his jest, "I sunbake, this is all real baby." I roll up the sleeves of my top so that he can see the light brown colour of my skin. Daryl shrugs, his gaze travelling up my slim forearm and I pull my clothes back down hurriedly, his stare making me feel a bit embarrassed for some reason, as if I am being judged.  
"I will make it up to ya though…"  
"Sure sure," I mutter dismissively, "Don't trouble yourself, I'm not worth it." I smile at him to soften my words and get up to leave again. As I am walking away I hear a whispered;  
"Yes ya are." But when I look back at Daryl he is pulling at the string of his crossbow, not even glancing my way and I shake my head thinking to myself; _"Geez, Carol's got you all paranoid now girl. Daryl is the last person left on this planet who is going to care about you."_


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: **Words cannot express how sorry I am for not updating in forever! Two very sick children, our new house, a family holiday and a severe case of writer's block have all prevented me from doing much decent work on this fic, but I FINALLY have a chapter I am happy with and another one on the way so yay for more frequent updates! :) A massive thanks to my beta, **Calcifer179**, for all the help he gave me with this one. We pretty much tore it to shreds, but I'm happy with the end result.  
As always a huge thank you to my amazing readers and reviewers, please let me know what you think and I'll get the next one up a.s.a.p for you guys ;)  
Much love and enjoy!

**14.**

"Oh daddy, it's going to be perfect! We can live here forever."  
Penny's words, while filled with childish naivety, definitely rang true. Woodbury _was_ perfect. The numbers of our small group had swelled to nearly twenty in the last few weeks, stragglers making their way to the town via the assorted roads, obviously drawn to our hum of activity. The walls had been completed, protecting the township almost entirely and with guards patrolling the perimeter and manning the gate at all times we were finally starting to feel safe. Bit by bit we cleared out buildings, dragging rubbish away and giving everything a more comfortable appearance. There was water to drink; food to eat, even electricity and showers, as long as no one abused the privilege and everyone seemed to be settling in well. All the newcomers followed Philip without question and with each new addition to our group his commanding presence increased. Although the original members knew by now that I wasn't related to the Blakes in the slightest, people continued to assume I was Penny's older sister and we saw no reason to correct them. After everything we had been through we were definitely a family now.  
Most people had set themselves up in a few select buildings throughout the main street, creating their own living spaces with their meagre possessions and sharing their areas with others freely, but Philip, Penny and I had claimed one apartment building to ourselves. We each had our own rooms, as well as rooms for Milton and the other men to sleep if they chose, which they often did, staying late to have secretive meetings and discussions with our leader behind his closed doors.  
Penny and I had gotten into the habit of sharing a bed, and despite having our own private quarters in the apartment; this was a routine we maintained. I don't think I would have even been able to sleep without her by my side, although the sweet girl could sleep through anything and never noticed if I crawled into bed after her or woke earlier.

* * *

"Your face doesn't look sore anymore," the young girl observed as we both stared at my reflection in the mirror in before us. She brushed my hair softly, working through the tangles that a restless sleep had caused and smoothing it out gently.  
"It's practically back to how it used to be now," I smiled, cringing slightly when I reached up to touch my temple that had once been black with bruising, "I'll brush your hair next okay Penny?"  
It seemed so normal, almost like what two girls would do at a slumber party, brushing each other's hair. In fact everything at Woodbury seemed quite normal. The threat of the Biters was still constant, of course, but we were more protected here than anywhere we'd been before and our numbers were increasing far more rapidly than they could decrease. Merle, Caesar and Shumpert had become Philip's army, in a way, and now that Dixon was mostly healed they ran scouting trips almost daily, nearly always returning with assorted supplies or occasionally new people to join the ranks at Woodbury. Milton was essentially Philip's advisor, his gentle manner and quiet intelligence were proving very useful in establishing a peaceful township and I could tell that they greatly respected one another.  
After we had finished getting ready, Penny and I parted ways. She had been enjoying the company of the few children her own age and a couple of the women had set up a temporary school in one of the larger buildings, reading with them and doing daily educational activities. The biggest blessing about Woodbury was that it was a deserted, but intact town, so it was still predominantly furnished and housed a number of bonuses like a small library that the 'school' utilised.  
After seeing Penny off I continued up the street towards the main gate, greeting the Woodburians I passed with smiles and nods. They all knew me, of course, but I was still trying to remember names and faces and with newcomers entering the town at least a couple of times a week I was failing dismally.  
"Well hey cher," Merle hollered at me from his position up on the wall, "How ya doing?"  
"Not bad Merle, yourself?" I smiled cheerily at him, enjoying the pleasant conversation. After everything that had happened with John, the redneck and I had formed a friendship of sorts, and while I wasn't expecting it to last it was nice to not have him hitting on me or mocking me every other sentence.  
The older man cracked a grin and aimed his rifle over the barrier, the noise of a bullet resounding through the air as he took down a Biter I couldn't see from the ground below.  
"I'm just fine doll. Yer looking for someone?"  
"Not really, just looking for something to do. I'm a little bored."  
"Come up here and I can teach yer how to shoot. Got plenty of nasty sons of bitches coming up the road today," he offered as his guard partner, a young man I only vaguely recognised who wore a green bandana wrapped around his short hair, took down another undead, his shot earning him a clap on the shoulder from Merle.  
"Ha! No thanks, you know that's not my thing."  
"Well go help the women make some sandwiches or something, we're busy."  
The man next to Merle chortled, which earned him another friendly slap from Dixon;  
"I'm starting to like you Crowley! Now run along Lil, go make yerself useful."  
I glared half-heartedly at him and waved my goodbyes before turning back and walking up the street again. In truth, there was plenty to do, rubbish that still needed collecting, gardening I could be helping with, sorting supplies, but I wasn't in the mood for anything like that today. I needed an escape, something relaxing. The last month had been beyond tiring and stressful and I finally felt comfortable enough, both physically and emotionally, to do something truly enjoyable.  
"Ah Lily, just who I was looking for." Philip's low voice surprised me; we hadn't spoken much since the relocation to Woodbury, it had been such a busy time for all of us.  
"Well hey there stranger," I joked, Philip's smile meeting mine. Martinez popped up from behind the larger form of Philip, and he greeted me with a grin, his eyes quickly scanning my body as they often had since my attack, as if to make sure I was okay.  
"I'm sorry I haven't been around much, you know how things have been," our leader continued, gesturing to the mostly deserted street. I glanced around once more, taking in the clean pathways and high walls that protected us and felt a twinge of pride that we had created this. That in this new, awful world, we had worked together to create a sanctuary.  
"Totally understandable, what's up?"  
"Just checking to see how you have settled in here…"  
We've stopped outside one of the fenced trees that stand centrally in the wide street, and a cool breeze rustled its leaves above us, causing all three of us sigh simultaneously, enjoying the temporary relief from the baking sun.  
"Good, good. It's a little confusing still, new faces and all."  
"It's good our group is growing, we're safer now," Martinez pointed out and Philip and I nodded in agreement.  
In perfect irony to that statement loud yells resound from the nearby gate and without exchanging a glance we all bolted towards it, seeing that Merle was engaged in an obviously heated discussion with someone beyond the wall, waving his gun wildly to emphasise each shouted word.  
"Merle…?" Philip began, his longer strides allowing him to reach the gate before Martinez or I managed to, "What is going on?"  
The aforementioned man turned and called down to us from his position atop the wall. Crowley, perched beside him, kept his rifle trained over the wall, aiming towards the unseen danger.  
"These fucking arseholes want to barge in here and make themselves a nice little home!"  
A garbled response came from behind the thick, wooden panels and I ventured forward to peer through the gap in between the gates. Maybe eight men stood at the entrance to Woodbury, all completely dishevelled, caked in dirt and blood and brandishing large guns, including what look to be a few automatics.  
"Listen man, this is my old town. I grew up here, so if you'll just step aside we'll be taking it back now," the brunette at the front ordered. I couldn't tell properly because of all the mud caking his lean body, but I guessed his age to be around thirty, and something in his wild, bloodshot eyes made me step back a few paces until I was hidden behind my friends. This guy didn't sound like he was going to back down easily.  
"Now now, I'm sure we can come to some kind of agreement," Philip raised his hands in a gesture of peace despite the fact he was still invisible to the intruders on the outside, "There is plenty of room here for everyone."  
"Meaning no disrespect," Merle growled, not taking his eyes off the men below him, "But these ain't the kind of guys we want in this town."  
"And what 'kind of guys' would that be?" I heard a different voice hiss from outside. A crowd had begun to grow behind me, it seemed like every Woodbury resident had been drawn to the main gate and I spotted Penny amongst the group and started to sidle my way towards her carefully.  
"The bad kind, I can spot your type a mile off. I bet ya were all twisted even before the world went to shit!"  
"Speak for yourself douchebag, I ain't never seen a neck as red as yours."  
"You mother…"  
Merle's curse was cut off by a darker look from Philip than I have ever seen as he moved a fraction closer to the gate dividing us from the intruders and spoke in a deep, commanding tone;  
"This may have been your home once, but we took it, made it safe, and made it our own. You have no right to be making demands here."  
"See, I don't much care for that attitude _Governor_," the man said, speaking equally coolly in a menacing, even voice that scared me far more than yelling would have.  
"I don't like this," Caesar whispered in my ear, standing so close to me that his breath tickled my neck.  
"What can we do?"  
"Nothing, just stay low."  
An overwhelming sense of dread filled me as the argument ahead continued. Others were cottoning onto the hostility and backing away from the gate, not wanting to get too close, but not wanting to leave either. I lost Penny in the small, dense crowd, but was reassured by the fact that she was hidden. Raised voices drew my attention back to the conflict, and I watched as Crowley and Merle both readjusted their weapons so they could aim at the men who were obviously pressing up against the gate now.  
"So you ain't going to let us in?" A voice bellowed out, tainted with anger and desperation.  
How long had it been since the first outbreak? 3 months? What these men must have gone through…  
"That's my final answer. You all just hightail it back up the road and be gone. You're not welcome here."  
"Have it your way Gov!" Several gunshots cut through the air like a glass breaking in a silent room and for a moment everything seemed frozen. It was like no one was quite sure how to react, but as soon as we realised they had blown the lock off the inside of the gate all Hell broke loose.  
I felt a huge force ram into me and felt dazed and confused as I hit the cold concrete of the street. It took me a few seconds to understand that Martinez had tackled me so I lay prone on the ground, hidden behind one of the small trees and with his large body pressing down on me from above, protecting me. I tucked my knees up into my side, keeping my head to the ground and my eyes clenched shut tightly so I wouldn't have to see the carnage that was occurring around me. I heard a bullet hit the concrete close to my leg and shuddered, realising how close I had come to being shot. I couldn't discern individual voices in the cacophony; it was all a blur of gunfire and cries. Cries in pain, cries in fear…  
And as suddenly as it had started, it was over. I hesitated for what felt like minutes, not wanting to raise my head prematurely and risk being an easy target, but the lack of shots being fired both reassured and scared me and I knew I needed to make sure everyone was okay. I wasn't even sure if Martinez was alive; his body was so lifeless atop mine that I would have sworn he had turned to stone.

* * *

I shifted beneath him and he gripped my arm a little tighter;  
"Not yet," he hushed, giving my hair a gentle stroke before we resumed our frozen positions.  
A lifetime and a day passed before I heard the sorrowful cries of others as they moved around us. There were causalities that much was clear and the sound of weeping tore my heart in two. How could this have happened? Not here, not at Woodbury. We had been so foolish.  
The first person I saw, when Martinez finally released me and helped me warily to my feet was, Philip, and somehow he was alive. His back was pressed against the high wall and his handsome face pale with shock. He didn't look injured, but his fatigue was evident, a pistol discarded by his side that I was sure had been used during the conflict. Slowly, other members of our town rose amongst the bodies, Merle's shaven head appearing from just outside the gate, his face splattered with blood that couldn't possibly be his own given his almost excited expression, as he picked up his rifle from the ground and casually wiped a knife on his jeans. Crowley was also unharmed, he hadn't left his position on top of the wall and Shumpert appeared to be nursing a wound where a bullet had clipped his arm, but despite the circumstances still remained calm and stoic.  
The other faces around me all showed varying emotions. As I had thought, there were causalities, people whose names I would now never get the chance to learn as they lay bloodied on the street, which looked like a set from a war movie. How Merle and Philip, so close to the attackers, had survived was a mystery, obviously their reflexes were too quick for the weakened men beyond the wall.  
"Lily!" Haley gasped in relief, appearing out of the crowd to stand by my side and pulling me into an easy hug, which surprised me due to our previous emotional distance, "Are you hurt?"  
"I'm fine, you?"  
"Yeah fine, I managed to get behind a tree. I didn't have my bow on me…I couldn't shoot at the bastards."  
"I'm just glad you're safe, I think we all are…" I said, referring to the members of our original group, "Have you seen Milton? Penny?"  
"Milton was still inside when it all started, I saw him running out into the street a minute ago. Haven't seen Penny."  
"You haven't seen her?" Her words chilled me to my very core and I searched desperately for the small girl amongst the chaos of people tending to injuries and mourning the fallen. I hadn't been that far from her when the shooting had started, she had to be nearby…  
Caesar followed me without comment, his jaw tightening once he realised my fear, and we walked carefully through the group. Twenty people can seem like a horde when you're searching for a lost child.  
And then we found her.  
Philip's first priority had been locating his daughter and it was apparent that he had snapped out of his stunned state, because he reached Penny just as we did.  
Her small body was slumped against the cool ground, blood seeping slowly from several bullet holes in her side and chest, staining her dress with a cherry red.  
"Oh God…" Martinez groaned, watching Philip fall to his knees in front of us and gently lift Penny's lifeless form from the ground, cradling her like a child would a doll.  
I opened my mouth to speak, to say something to comfort him, but no sound came out. I couldn't feel, I couldn't think, I couldn't cry. I could only stand there as Philip broke down at my feet, stroking Penny's dark blonde hair and sobbing silently, whispering her name as he kissed her white cheek.  
"Woo hoo! Ya see that? I just went for that guy as he started popping off rounds, dove off the wall like fucking Jackie Chan, and he went down like a tonne of bricks…Ya see that Martinez?" Merle's tone was completely elated, as if he was high, but he stopped, the smile sliding of his face, when he saw the body in Philip's arms and my vacant expression as Martinez pulled me towards his chest;  
"Don't look Lil," he hushed.  
But I'd already seen her clearly, and the wet tears on her face. My Penny, my sister, had died crying, alone and in pain, her calls for help unheard amongst the carnage.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: **Happy to have this chapter done, it may not seem like much, but this is actually the beginning of a major arc regarding Lily and Daryl. Hope my Daryl is okay, I'm always so unsure of him! Please let you know what you think, reviews are so appreciated and I love every one I receive. Big thanks to all those who follow and favourite too, you guys are champs!  
Thanks as always to my beta, **Calcifer179**. Go and check out his stuff, he's an awesome writer. We're actually about to start a joint fic under the pen-name **Rare Beasts**, will let you know when it's up.  
Anyway; R&R and hope you're all going well and enjoying s4 of The Walking Dead 3**  
Disclaimer: **I, sadly, don't own any part of The Walking Dead, just my own OCs

**15.**

"I think Rick is kind of sexy," Karen laughs, tucking her toes underneath my blanket as we huddle together on the lower bunk.  
"Okay you did not just say that!" Sasha chastises from across the room where she is relaxing on a pillow dragged from her bed, propping herself up casually against the cell wall like it's an old friend.  
I shift a little on the hard mattress, pushing Karen's lean leg over so I have more space and join in their cheery laughter.  
Things have been good the last few days, easy and almost carefree. It seems like the Woodburians have really integrated themselves with the prison group and put aside past fears and worries. We are more trusted now, able to move freely amongst the yard and buildings without Rick's group feeling like they need to escort us constantly. Friendships are being formed and I often see Carol chatting with Eileen or some of the older ladies, Bob hanging out with Tyreese, Carl spending time with Eli and Patrick, one of the quieter boys from Woodbury…It's nice. Almost like another community.  
And it seems as though my old friends are finally relaxing around me, reassured that I am not about to run off in search of The Governor to betray everyone's trust, which is a huge weight off my shoulders.  
I still avoid dirty work. While the others line up at the fences to impale Biters through the chain metal and slowly help clear out other unexplored areas of the prison, I stay back, washing clothes, looking after the youngest children…I almost feel like I'm betraying my sex and being very antifeminist, but I've accepted that I'll never be much of a fighter.  
Rick seems to have accepted that too and once Carol assured him I would be proficient enough to use a weapon if forced to he let up on training me and all but ignores my presence, only offering a slight smile every once in a while, his belief that I can help him find Philip obviously dashed.  
I tune back into the girl's conversation and grin at Karen's observations about the sheriff;  
"Come on! That sexy voice, wild eyes…Yep I'd definitely go there."  
"Damn woman, you need to get laid bad…"  
"Hell, I think we all do! And no one's getting any around here, 'cept maybe you Lil." I flush noticeably and glare at Karen's pretty face.  
"I have no idea what you are talking about."  
"Oh please!" Sasha giggles, fluffing some of her wiry hair absentmindedly, "The apocalypse has been good for your love life! First Martinez and now…"  
"Wait!" The other woman cuts her off, her eyebrows raised in surprise, "Lily was getting it on with Martinez?"  
"Yep! She's quite popular it seems."  
"Hey I'm right here!" I protest, unable to hold back my foolish grins when they start giggling loudly.  
"So what was he like?"  
"Yeah I've always wanted to get me some of that hot…"  
"Am I interrupting something?"  
At the sound of Daryl's rough voice from the doorway we all freeze in shock before Karen and Sasha crack up again, Sasha even hiding her face in her pillow because she is unable to contain herself.  
I turn to face him, sliding forward so that my legs swing off the edge of the bed, and see the man leaning against the cell bars, arms crossed in front of him and a slightly amused expression on his dirty face.  
"No not at all, Sash and Kaz just can't seem to control themselves."  
"Yeah we're the ones who can't control ourselves!" Karen chortles, giving me a playful nudge.  
I blush again, more brilliantly this time under Daryl's incredulous stare and shove the woman back before rising from the bunk.  
"You need something?"  
"Yeah, I was looking for ya; think you can tear yourself away from yer slumber party for a minute?"  
I glare at the women, still laughing loudly, and smile sweetly at the redneck;  
"You're doing me a favour to be honest." I shoot another glare at my friends, and follow Daryl, leaving to further peals of laughter.  
"They sound like they're enjoying themselves," he mutters after a moments silence as we make our way through D block and outside, walking next to one another, but keeping our distance.  
"Yeah, a little too much if you ask me. They were making fun of me."  
"You okay?"  
"Okay I may not be the toughest person around, but give me a bit of credit," I laugh at his concern, "It was all in fun."  
We are quiet again as he leads me through the courtyard and into one of the buildings near C block that becomes a maze of corridors. For the first time I notice that he doesn't have his crossbow with him and I clam up at the thought of going into the dark hallways of the prison unarmed.  
Daryl notices my hesitation and lifts his shirt slightly, showing off a well-muscled torso that I pay far too much attention to and a pistol tucked into the top of his jeans.  
"Got ma knife too. We're fine."  
I smile, still a little unsure, and move a fraction closer to him as we continue walking in silence for a short time, before I feel the need to at least have some understanding of where we are headed;  
"I'm curious now, where exactly are you taking me?"  
"Well…I said I was going to make it up to you didn't I?"  
"Taking me deep into the prison to get killed wasn't exactly what I had in mind Daryl!"  
"You had something in mind?" His tone is light-hearted, almost cheeky, and in the gloom I can see a small smile play on his features.  
"No! I just meant…oh never mind." I give up explaining, defeated and embarrassed by his misinterpretation of my words, and go back to checking my peripherals constantly, terrified that any minute an undead prisoner is going to lurch out of the darkness. I also seize the opportunity to watch my companion as closely as I can without drawing attention to myself; the wide step of his gait, his confident, almost animalistic movements as he walks so determinedly through the dim prison corridors, his seemingly always dirty, hair which clings to his serious face. The girls are right; there is something here, at least on my end. I can deny it to myself all I like, but I am attracted to Daryl Dixon, and that is confusing in so many ways.  
He definitely isn't my usual type, not that that matters anymore, and not that I have much variety of choice these days. But that's not just it; it's not just physical attraction. He makes me feel so safe, so protected, and it's been a long time since I have truly felt like that. And when he smiles…  
"We're here now," Daryl says, his words breaking through my overly romantic train of thought as we stop in front of a set of closed double doors.  
"Do you want me to close my eyes?" I laugh and he shrugs his broad shoulders;  
"If you want to…" I close them seriously and raise my hands in front of me, shuffling forward like a parody of a zombie, the thought of which makes me laugh again.  
Daryl shocks me then by taking one of my hands gently in his own, which is warm, firm and completely swamps my own in its grasp and he tugs me in the direction of the door. I blindly follow and hear the doors swing open in a low swish of air as he leads me into the unknown room, closing them behind us and releasing my hand.  
"Can I open my eyes now?"  
"Sure, go ahead."  
I peak through my lids slowly, my gaze widening as I take in the space around me. It was once the prison gym, the fitness equipment pushed to one side of the room makes that clear. The other half of the room is bare, with polished floorboards and a wall of floor to ceiling mirrors that reflect the sunlight filtering through small, barred windows positioned near the roof, creating moving patterns of shadow that flicker across the floor.  
"I…uh…I thought you could use it for yer dancing, ya know? Floors will be better than the concrete outside…" Daryl's voice is stilted, awkward and questioning and I know he is waiting for a response. I cannot believe the change in his attitude towards me over the time we have known each other, how can he just go from hateful words to thoughtful gifts in just a few weeks?  
Completely thrown off by this gesture, all the trouble he must have gone to so things could be set up for me; I can't find the words to adequately describe my appreciation. I turn back to face him, willing myself not to tear up with emotion and smile broadly. I grab the fabric of his shirt and pull him towards me, wanting to give him nothing more than a simple hug, but feeling his body tense underneath me as I wrap my arms around his waist and lean into him, I freeze, so we are locked in some kind of awkward body to body contact. Like teenagers fumbling their way through a first high school dance. His body is rigid and unmoving, it's like cuddling with a boulder, but for some reason I can't pull away, clinging to him like a child clings to a doll, breathing in the scent of his warm and slightly sweaty chest.  
"It's just a room…" He mumbles, still allowing me to touch him, but not reciprocating the hug and staring down at me with almost fearful steely blue eyes.  
"It means a lot Daryl, seriously. I don't think anyone has ever done anything so sweet for me before."  
The air around us seems to thicken as we continue staring at each other and my throat grows tight in a way that's not entirely uncomfortable. "Oh crap, I've got it bad" is my only thought as I take in his handsome, if hardened face that is lined with the marks only a tough life can cause, but no less attractive for it. And Daryl has had a tough life; my talk with Carol had only confirmed my previous suspicions. I may not have been able to relate, but I know broken when I see it. I had seen it in Martinez when he had lost everything he'd held dear. I had seen it in Philip when he'd had his baby girl taken from him so cruelly. Those men were forever changed by their hearts being broken, but Daryl, Daryl has been shaped by repeated heartache, and I could see that too.  
His eyes haven't moved from mine, but his face has inched slowly closer, tilting slightly to the left, so there is only a whisper between us. His rough fingers reach out to play with a strand of my dark hair before trailing the line of my face from ear to jaw. This is the drumroll, the moment before a kiss, it's not a first for Daryl and I to experience, but this is the closest we have ever come. So close…  
"What the Hell do ya think yer doing?" He suddenly yells, pushing me away roughly and recoiling like my very touch is painful to him.  
"I wasn't…I mean I didn't…" I can only stammer back, unable to wrap my head around his violent mood swing. What just happened?  
"Whatever ya think is here…It isn't, okay? Ya wrong." He barks the words, and while they aren't articulate or deep, there is an ounce of venom in every syllable that completely conveys his opinion of me. I was wrong, his attitude towards me hasn't changed; he really was just doing this because he felt like he owed me, Hell, he probably did it so that he didn't have to see me as much, knowing I'd spend the majority of my time now tucked away in this godforsaken gym.  
"Daryl…I'm sorry…." I start, but the creaking of the doors near us interrupts whatever stumbling apology I was going to try and get out.  
"Oh great! Hope you like it!" Glenn's warm voice fills the room and I turn away from Daryl to see the young man grinning in the doorway.  
"You were in on this too?"  
"Ha! Daryl's strong, but he needed help moving that gym stuff."  
"A _little_ help," Dixon grumbles, but he smiles at Glenn in thanks.  
"And I brought you this! Figure now we can all listen to music." He holds the portable iPod dock aloft before resting it on the floor near the door.  
"Oh awesome! Remind me to charge my mp3 player in one of the cars later, yeah? Seriously, I can't thank you enough."  
"It was all Daryl really," Glenn insists, "Besides, now you have somewhere to teach me to dance that is a little more private than the courtyard."  
"Yeah we're all happy about that."  
"Daryl!" I admonish, trying to forget the tension between us and put on a brave face, "Don't be mean! Or I'll make you dance."  
"Yeah, never gonna happen princess."  
"Guess I'll leave you guys to it," Glenn smiles, and I can swear he winks cheekily as he starts to retreat back through the double doors.  
"Wait, Glenn!" I call out and his head pops around in surprise, his expression bemused;  
"Do you have a knife I can borrow?"  
The man's face is slack with surprise, a mix of curiousity and worry passing across his fine features before he shrugs and reaches into his pocket to withdrawn the small pocketknife he had been keeping there;  
"It's not much, but it'll get the job done."  
"Thanks."  
"Stay safe, okay? Don't go off being the hero now."  
"Ha ha. Very funny." I grin at him, before he leaves the room with a small smile and a tight nod.  
During our exchange I had felt Daryl's gaze burning a hole in the back of my head, I had felt the intensity in the gym grow even further, but I had refused to turn back and face him, refused to answer his unspoken question. I mentally thanked Glenn for interrupting the apology I was about to offer the redneck, when I thought about it saying sorry just seemed pathetic. After all; what did I have to apologise for? This was just more typical Dixon cruelty and I wanted no part in it.  
"You can leave now," I said, directing my voice to Daryl, but stubbornly remaining with my body pivoted away from him.  
"I ain't leaving ya here…that flimsy little knife would barely work in the hands of someone who _does_ know how to use it." His tone is cold, completely emotionless and it only serves to make me more frustrated with him.  
"I _do _know how to use it," I hiss in reply, finally turning on the heel of my shoe to acknowledge him once more. His body language is as closed off as his voice; arms crossed over his broad body, face tilted down so that he has to stare up through the wisps of his fringe to make eye contact with me.  
"That ain't exactly a tested theory now is it? I sure as Hell don't want your blood on my hands, half the group would ring my neck fer leaving ya here. How about you just come back with me now and you can get some of yer little gal pals to come back with yer later?"  
"Nope, no way. This isn't going to be on your terms Dixon, you're the one who threw the first punch in this little spat, as always. So you can PMS with me all you like Daryl, but it's not going to fly anymore. Treat me like shit or be my friend, but don't just switch between the two when you feel like it, okay?" My voice shakes with every word, but I manage to get through my rant without breaking down in tears like I fear I'm going to and my faked confidence seems to have worked as Daryl's eyes widen in surprise, completely thrown off by my sudden change in mood. Well if he can go from romance to rage in a few short minutes there is no reason why I can't be snivelly and pathetic one moment and strong the next, two can play at this game.  
"It's not happening Lil, I'm not leaving ya here."  
"Fine, you can sit down and shut up then, because I'm going to have a look around."  
There is a momentary pause as I survey the now dance studio, taking in its lightness compared to the rest of the prison, looking at anything in the room that isn't Dixon shaped.  
Daryl wordlessly slides down the wall nearest the door until he is sitting on the ground and retrieves the pistol from his belt, fiddling with it for a moment before laying it near his thigh. Seeing the gun makes me feel safer, although I have to admit, that despite his regular anger towards me I never feel safer than when I am with Daryl.  
The redneck seems preoccupied with his own thoughts, not paying attention to my form as I circle the once-gym and I balance against the wall opposite him for support, watching myself in the mirror.  
I have changed a lot the past year. Has it been a year? I have lost count of the days. I've always been slim, but now I am skinny, almost disgustingly so I realise as I inspect my body closely. My cheekbones seemed to have gained new heights and it looks like almost all my bones are visible beneath my tanned skin. It's not really surprising though considering the circumstances; it can be tough to remember to eat frequently during the apocalypse.  
My muscles are still defined though, and my hips curved. I even have a decent handful of breast left, thank goodness.  
The long, brown hair I had always been admired for in high school and college is definitely less shiny than it used to be. I still keep it is a clean as I can, but its waves are definitely more on the natural side than deliberate and pretty. For once, I'm not wearing makeup. My supply is dwindling short and for some reason I am maintaining an attitude of "I may need it for a special occasion," so my face looks particularly plain to me. Vanity has always been one of my more obnoxious personality traits. When you have people telling you daily how stunning you are it can create a pretty mammoth sized ego, and despite my plain getup of leggings and hooded jacket, I still think I look okay. Not great, but okay.  
I shrug the jacket now, stuffing Glenn's knife into one of its pockets, and out of my peripherals notice Daryl's head flick up, startled by my sudden movement. I'm wearing a tight fitted singlet, a now greying white, and mentally high five myself for remembering to wear something more than just a sports bra today.  
I kick off my boots and peel away my socks, stretching my feet and flexing them in preparation. I catch Daryl's eye, his stare widening when I cock an eyebrow at him, daring him to object, but when he remains silent I start a short run up and turning a couple of quick summersaults. My landing is a little lazy, I really need to work on that, but it's a decent enough performance and I gain confidence within minutes, my acrobatics growing more daring as I tumble across the hardwood floors.  
Under Daryl's watchful gaze I feel uncomfortable dancing, which, especially without music, can be so intimate, but this feels natural and fun even. I make my last landing easily, breathing heavily from the exertion and acknowledge the older man with a small smile, my mood lifted by the enjoyable exercise;  
"You're a total arsehole when you want to be Daryl, but this is still a nice present," I laugh, attempting a joke.  
He flashes me one of his trademark Dixon stares; the ones that feel like they pierce right through me to my very core. It's like he is trying to figure me out, like I'm some elaborate puzzle that he doesn't have all the pieces to. He rakes his eyes over me, lingering on my legs and breasts brazenly before standing back up and retrieving his pistol from the floor;  
"Let's go," he mutters, obstinately refusing to meet my eyes and without another word he is out the door, shoulders squared. I dawdle behind him, wondering how we went from one extreme to another in just a few short minutes and know that I am never going to be able to figure him out. He's Daryl Dixon. And ten times more complicated than I am.


End file.
